Afterwards
by Windjammers
Summary: Episode tags showing Jon and Jennifer's changing relationship as events unfolded from episode to episode.
1. Chapter 1 Shattered

**Episode 1 – Shattered**

_Pilot and Jon fly to San Francisco to meet an old acquaintance of the captain's. Athena Samuels, Stuart Power's former lab assistant, had joined the Resistance when the war broke out, only to be captured and digitized by Soaron. Dread reintegrated her to lay down the trap for Jon. In an effort to keep them from Dread, Athena gasses Pilot and tries to kill Jon before Soaron can arrive because she would rather be dead than digitized. Pilot recovers, speaks to Hawk who, along with Tank and Scout, rush to their defense. Athena leaves with them and will eventually join another Resistance cell._

~*~*~*~*~

Even after two days, Jennifer couldn't get rid of the hacking cough. The gas Athena used had the unfortunate side effect of settling in the lungs and could only be dispelled in one painful way. After a particularly lengthy coughing spell, Jennifer was beginning to think she would hack up a lung. As it was, her voice was already sounding strained.

Focusing on the computer monitor again, she studied the chessboard shown on the monitor. Since the captain had mentioned he played the game with Athena Samuels before the war, she was curious about what the game was.

She glanced up at the interactive visage. "Okay, Mentor. It's on the screen."

"Ah, yes," Mentor pleasantly agreed. "Chess is a game of tactics and strategy played between two players. The game is played on a square 64-square checkered chessboard, each square an alternating color of red and black. Each player has sixteen pieces, one side black, one side white. The chess pieces are as follows: one king, one queen, two rooks, two bishops, two knights and eight pawns. The object of the game is to place the opponent's king piece in immediate attack. This stage of the game means to have the king _in check_. The player must try to move his king out of check if possible by placing another chess piece between the threatening opponent piece and the king or by capturing the threatening opponent piece. Should the king be able to be moved to another space, then it will no longer be in check. If the king cannot be moved, then he will be _checkmated_ and the opponent will have won the game."

Jennifer thought about what he said just as another coughing fit took hold of her. "Why would that be difficult?" she asked.

"Each piece can only move in a specific manner. Both players must gauge their opponents' methods of play as well as anticipate coming moves. It is as much a mental as it is a visual game. Books have been written about chess strategies, about how to place your opponent in check and mate. Some strategies have earned titles, named after the players who created them."

Jennifer smiled as she understood the significance. "Tactics and strategies and outguessing your opponent…" another deep cough took hold of her, almost doubling her over when she couldn't catch her breath. This time, that lung was definitely going to make an appearance. Little sparkles began shining in her peripheral vision, and she felt a strong arm come across her and hold on to her, a firm hand thumping her back helping her dispel the gas.

"Easy," Jon said. "Take a breath before you pass out."

She leaned back against him, her heart trying to slow down from the near-faint. At least her vision was clearing somewhat.

"Better?" Jon asked.

She took a deep breath and could still feel the tickle at the back of her throat. "Think so. I just wish this would go away."

Jon sat down in the chair next to her, noticing the monitor as he did so. He slid a glass of water he had placed on the console in her direction. "Athena was still apologizing for gassing you when we dropped her off at the Passages. She didn't know it would have this kind of effect."

Jennifer sipped at the water, the coolness of the liquid helping to soothe her raw throat. "I don't blame her. I might have done the same thing if I were in her shoes. Threatening digitization was how the Overunits and caretakers scared us when we were children."

"Why would they do that?"

Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I guess it was a way to keep us obedient? I mean, they taught us that we wanted to be immortal minds in perfect metalloid bodies – that was their version of heaven, but digitization was their definition of hell. They used Soaron to threaten us from time to time. You'd do almost anything to not be digitized, no matter what it was."

"Even betray your friends?" Jon asked.

Jennifer shook her head. Sometimes, she forgot that the guys didn't really understand all aspects of being raised by the Dread Youth. "None of us had friends, remember? We were Dread Youth. We were soldiers, and soldiers couldn't have friends because that meant you felt emotions – "

"And emotions were what made you imperfect," Jon completed the sentence from one of the litanies. "Personally, I like the fact we're friends. I'll take 'imperfect' any day over not feeling anything."

The tickle suddenly seized up and became another blasting cough, one that almost knocked her out of her chair. She felt Jon grab her arm to keep her from toppling over when a particularly rattling series of coughs took hold of her. Again, she felt the thumping on her back as he tried to help her catch her breath.

Finally, the spell passed and she saw another glass of water had replaced the first. "Thanks."

"I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have split us up when I went looking for Athena," he told her.

"She was your friend. She wanted to see you, and she wouldn't have appreciated it if you had brought someone with you," she sipped at the water again. It was helping, but not much.

"But maybe she wouldn't have had the chance to gas you or shoot me if we'd gone in there together."

Jennifer didn't quite understand. Tactically speaking, there had been no need for her to go with him. Still, "Maybe, but like Hawk likes to say, there's no sense second guessing since hindsight's 20/20," she mused. "She didn't want to be digitized again, and she was just trying to protect you from it. That's what friends do, right?"

~*~*~*~*~

Jon could tell that there was more to it than that. Given the way Jennifer grew up, there was an entire lifetime of _more to it than that_ aspects to every topic they discussed. This had to do with more than just chess. "Yeah, sometimes, that's what friends do. And we were good friends once."

But Athena, whether or not she had been a friend, whether or not she had the intention of saving him from being digitized, had shot him and gassed Jennifer. If Pilot hadn't woke up to tell Hawk what was happening, if Soaron had showed up any earlier, he'd have lost her. That thought scared him more than he would admit to anyone.

"So she was trying to save her one-time good friend from what she thought was a fate worse than death. That must have been a pretty strong friendship then if she was willing to save you after all these years of not seeing each other."

Ah. Now Jon understood. Relationships were still something of a mystery to Jennifer. Not that he was any great expert, but friendships were one thing he could try to explain. "Sometimes, people can be apart for years and still be friends. Sometimes, a friendship can't survive seeing each other every day. There's no hard and fast rule about it. There are times when the memory of a friendship is strong enough to move people even if there is no real friendship anymore."

Friendship was one of the biggest hurdles Jennifer had to overcome after she escaped the Dread Youth. How does someone who was taught duty, rules, that personal attachments were bad and who had never learned how to trust someone ever understand what it's like to have friends? Much less friends who would put their lives on the line for you? It had been a long lesson for her.

"I had never even heard of the word _friends_ until I left the Dread Youth and met all of you," she muttered as she took another sip of water. "I mean, there is absolutely no one in my past that I would think well enough of to risk my life for, not like Athena did for you. I mean, risking our lives to save someone from Dread is what we do, but on a personal level…"

"But you've got us now," Jon told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He thought about saying more, but he was the captain and she was a corporal. There was the war. There were so many reasons to not say certain things no matter how much he wanted to. He glanced back at the monitor. "Chess?"

"You mentioned you and Athena would meet at that bookstore and play chess. I wondered what the game was."

Every day, Jennifer revealed some small aspect of life of growing up in the Dread Youth. This one was obvious. No games. "It was always a favorite of mine and my dad's. Would you like to learn how to play?"


	2. Chapter 2 The Abyss

**Episode 2 – The Abyss**

_A general captures Jon and Hawk, convinced that they are intruders. As the two men are tortured, it becomes readily apparent that the general is sliding into insanity as he later orders their executions._

~*~*~*~*~

Jon sat in the empty main room, staring at nothing in particular. Their recent adventure with General Briggs preyed on his mind.

So many times, he'd had to send members of his team into dangerous situations in pairs or in threes. Since there were only five of them, it was logistically impossible to deal with every emergency with a full crew. This one had definitely been a situation that required all five of them.

But Briggs caught him and Hawk and tortured them.

Capture and torture was a distinct possibility every time they left the base, only they expected such results from the biomech troopers and the Overunits, not other resistance fighters. If all five of them had gone, the chances of any of them being captured would have gone down considerably.

But what if the opposite were true? What if they had all been captured and tortured?

If Briggs had done to Pilot what he had done to him…

He quickly put that thought out of his mind. He was the captain of a resistance cell. He worried about all his people, not just one. He did not want the image of Pilot in pain, being tortured for information clouding his thinking.

Still…

There was a narrow-minded, hateful conviction in Briggs that Jon had seen too many times. It was that certainty that he was right despite all facts to the contrary, that he was justified in his actions no matter how wrong his actions were. He would have been a deadly Overunit if he had been a member of the Dread Youth.

That brought his thoughts back to Jennifer. Once, she had mentioned that the caretakers would threaten the children with Soaron. That was cruel. If the caretakers were as ruthless and uncaring as Briggs was, then Jon had a better understanding of Jennifer's childhood.

"They're back," Hawk announced as he almost jogged into the main room. "I don't think they found anything or Scout would have been much more enthusiastic when he called in."

Jon smiled at that. Recon was often a thankless and nonproductive task. The more time passed, the less there was to find on recon missions. He had considered cutting back on the number of recons to conserve on fuel, but it was still too early to make that decision. As long as there were people out there scrounging to survive, he'd keep up the missions.

Voices echoed down the corridor, and Jon could just make out the words.

"But how did you do that?" Scout asked.

"I didn't do anything out of the ordinary," Jennifer told him. "The cadet was running toward me, and I had to fight back."

"He was Tank's size!" was Scout's protest.

"And what's that saying of Hawk's? The bigger they are, the harder they fall?"

Tank's slight laugh followed.

Then, Jon saw Scout helping a limping Jennifer into the main room. They all looked like they had been in a fight, but her clothes were a little torn and she was a bit bruised. Other than that, she was … fine?

"Do I want to know?" he asked them as he helped Scout get Jennifer down the stairs.

"It's nothing, Captain," Jennifer told him. "We ran into a patrol who wanted to fight. We fought. They ran. We won."

"If it's nothing, then why are you limping?" he led her to the main console and let her sit down.

Tank placed a few data disks into the reader on the console and started uploading the information. "One of the cadets was a very large fellow, about my size. He charged Pilot's position, and she put him down after a scuffle."

"Scuffle?" Hawk couldn't believe his ears. "That was more than a scuffle if it was someone Tank's size." He took Jennifer's hand and saw the wounds on the back. "Sharp instrument, kid?"

"Did I ever mention I was top of my class in hand-to-hand combat when I was in the Dread Youth?" she smiled up at him.

Hawk just stared back at her.

Jennifer sighed. "Okay, he had a knife, we fought, and I disarmed him. He got away during the explosion."

"Explosion?" Jon asked. What were they not telling him?

"Mine," Scout answered. "I set off a few grenades to distract the patrol while we regrouped. Some of the buildings in the area couldn't take the concussion of the blast and some walls came tumbling down."

"Walls?" Hawk looked over at Jon. "I don't think we're getting the full story here yet."

"Neither do I, Matt." Jon looked back at his three teammates. "What else happened?"

Tank cleared his throat. "Part of the wall fell on Pilot and pinned her to the ground. We got the rocks off her, ran back to the jumpship and flew out. We didn't find anything else on the recon in sector 7."

Hawk and Jon looked at each other. The nonchalant way they gave the report meant that much more happened; only they didn't want to talk about it. Yet.

Unfortunately for them, a team captain needed to know all the relevant details.

"And?"

"And?" Scout repeated.

"And what else happened?"

Both Scout and Tank stammered their words a bit, and finally Jennifer said, "I knew the Overunit on the patrol. He wasn't very happy to see me, and he's the one who ordered the cadet who was Tank's size to attack me."

~*~*~*~*~

It wasn't a new occurrence in their lives. Before the team decided unanimously to ask Jennifer to join them, they knew they ran the risk of crossing paths with Dread soldiers who knew her and would harbor a personal grudge for anyone who betrayed the Machine. They were aware that it could cause an unwanted situation in a battle. It had happened before. Once, they were helping relocate some villagers when they were ambushed by a small patrol of Dread Youth. Jennifer had been acquainted with the Youth Leader, a man named Reynolds. She had tried reasoning with him, tried convincing him that Dread lied. It still ended up in a gunfight with the Power team covering for the villagers as they made their escape. Jennifer had taken point in the battle, putting herself in grave danger to protect the rest of the team from being singled out by Reynolds. She had taken several hits until her power suit powered down, leaving her vulnerable but buying the others time to get the villagers clear.

It had been a rather nasty fight after that.

Jon, Tank and Scout rushed in to cover Hawk as he flew Pilot out of the area. Jon had never been as scared as he was at that moment when he saw her suit shut down and Reynolds running toward her, gun in hand, aiming at her, but he was amazed at her selflessness and courage.

Later on, she said nothing was hurt but her pride, but Jon could tell she wasn't being completely truthful. She wasn't seriously hurt, but she had some painful bruises and sore muscles for days after that. It was the first time she'd been hurt that badly while working with them, and it was also another instance whereby Jon learned a little of her past.

One of the many litanies the Dread Youth learned was that pain was a feeling, feelings were emotions, and emotions meant you were weak. Imperfect. Not of the Machine. Dread Youth did not show pain. They did not show fear. It took some time for Jennifer to understand that it was okay to let someone know when she was hurting, to give into the pain, that a stoic exterior was so… inhuman. Now, if she was hurt, she didn't keep it a secret. She didn't act as if pain were nothing. True, she would still ignore it in order to complete the mission, but not like before.

Again, Jon sat at Mentor's console. In the quiet of the night, his mind went back to Briggs. Had they all been there for that adventure, if Jennifer had been captured and tortured – Jon had long suspected that she was tougher than the rest of them and would have undoubtedly angered the general by not showing that torture hurt. What Briggs would have done then…

"You're up late," he heard her say.

Jon turned around and watched Jennifer limp down the stairs. He stood quickly and offered her a hand, but she just shook her head and managed on her own. He did help her to the chair.

"Couldn't sleep," he told her.

"Briggs?"

Jon nodded his head. "He had really lost contact with reality. It was as if he didn't realize time had passed and that the world he knew didn't exist anymore."

Jennifer leaned back and thought for a moment. "That happened to some soldiers who volunteered to join instead of being raised in the Dread Youth. Once the training units realized what was happening to them, they just disappeared. We never found out where they were taken or what happened to them. The only explanation we were given was that they weren't strong enough to serve the Machine."

Another brief glance into Jennifer's childhood. Soldiers would just disappear if they didn't behave in a certain way? Digitized? Killed? Made to work as slaves in Dread's foundries? That helped explain how she chose to escape from the Dread Youth, to play dead after a battle and then run into the wilderness, choosing possible death from dehydration and exposure rather than spend one more day in the lie that was her life.

It was another clue to strength of the woman herself, and the more Jon learned, the more he wanted to know.

"So why are you awake?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Couldn't sleep," she told him.

"Leg hurts?"

"A bit," she readily agreed.

Jon grinned. Once, she would never have admitted that much. He reached out and pressed a button on the console, and a chessboard appeared on the monitor. "How about a game? Maybe it'll take our minds off today's events."


	3. Chapter 3 Final Stand

**Episode 3 – Final Stand**

_While flying to a location in Sector 7 where 300 people are in danger, the team encounters Soaron and forces him down. They're in a race against time to find the villagers before Soaron regenerates and attacks, but instead they meet Kasko, someone from Tank's past who was also genetically engineered at Babylon 5. Kasko issues an ultimatum: either Tank fights him according to the "street rules" (fight to the death) or he kills the villagers he holds hostage. _

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk let the ladder down on the jumpship as soon as they touched down. "Okay, folks, welcome to the Passages!" He announced with a smile.

One by one, the women and children filed out of the ship and were met by Passages individuals who guided newcomers. They'd help them find the rest of their townspeople and reunite them.

Scout rubbed his hands together. "You know, since we're here, it wouldn't hurt to see if we can trade for a few supplies. Maybe we could get a few good memory chips and control modules –"

"And you can visit that young lady down in hydroponics," Hawk suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. "Patricia's her name, isn't it?"

"Jealous?"

"Me? Jealous? I'm old enough to be her father."

Jon listened to them joke back and forth, and then glanced back at Tank. He was less talkative than usual, his mind still on the fact that someone he knew and was engineered with had gone over the edge. Few of the genetically engineered ended up like Kasko, but it had happened in the past. The fear Tank had of it happening to him wasn't unfounded.

_We are the product of our pasts yet our pasts do not dictate our futures._

Somewhere, Jon had read that. He didn't really remember where. He hadn't understood what it meant until he was older and saw the saying played out before his eyes in the form of his own team. Sometimes, it was a daunting thought to consider the differences in his team's background.

Tank had been genetically engineered in the Babylon 5 laboratory to be an elite soldier for whatever purpose the commanders saw fit. Whether it was for noble or nefarious purposes, the soldiers' expertise was sold to the highest bidder. Dread had made good use of the soldiers for a time, until the day the soldiers decided they'd had enough of being used and revolted. They destroyed the lab, wiped out the genetic information in the databanks, and destroyed any proof of their existence.

Tank had escaped and not looked back. He vowed he wouldn't sell his services any longer but fight for causes he believed in. Jon was incredibly grateful that Tank was on their side.

One fact that never ceased to amaze Jon was Tank's limitless patience. Genetic engineering included an enhanced ability to learn and retain hard facts. Tank's knowledge of history alone had helped keep everyone grounded in the fact that they were fighting to restore what was lost. He was also a great wealth of information for Jennifer as she learned all the things that she didn't learn in the Dread Youth.

Jennifer…

Lately, Jon's thoughts flowed more and more toward her. At times, he was almost preoccupied with her. He couldn't afford that, not and be an effective leader of the team. Even when they were in Sector 7, he ordered her out of the room so he could disarm the bomb because he couldn't bear the thought of her dying with him if it went off. He wanted her safe, out of the building.

He forced his mind back to the recent mission. Genetic engineering… Kasko had been vengeful, wanting to fight just for the sake of fighting whereas Tank used his skills to protect people. Jon would make a concerted effort to remind him of that.

"Hey," he listened but didn't look up as Jennifer sat down next to Tank. Sometimes, she could reach him when no one else could.

"Hi," Tank said, sitting back in his seat and staring at the console.

"You're not Kasko," she told him, going directly to the point.

"I could have been," he answered. "It would have been easy to …"

"Just be angry and strike out at anyone and anything?"

Tank smiled. "You're turning my own argument against me."

"It does work every now and then," she smiled. "You know how angry I was when all of you found me. I just wanted to get even with Dread so badly for all the lies, for what he made us do, what he made me think, what he stole from me. I didn't care who got in the way. You were the one that told me I needed to be angry for a while, to work through it and then channel it so I could help others. You said that even though I was Youth Leader, I wasn't like those Youth Leaders who ordered deaths and digitizations of entire towns. I cared, and that made me different. I wasn't going to let my past stop me from being a good person in the future. Remember?"

Sometimes, there was no arguing with her when she approached an opinion logically. Jon knew that.

"I did that. You did too. Kasko didn't, and it's not your fault what happened in that town. Kasko made his own choices."

Words that they had told her so long ago, she was now telling Tank.

"But if he went mad, then his choices were not of his own making," Tank countered. "The genetic engineering isn't perfect."

Jennifer countered his comment with "Nothing is; not even Dread's vision of the world with immortal minds in perfect metalloid bodies."

Jon had never truly appreciated the similarities between Tank and Jennifer's pasts. Sometimes, it was easier to fool himself into thinking that they all had mothers and fathers and good homes once.

He remained casually uninterested in the conversation, at least to the human eye. Jennifer knew what she was doing, and she was doing it well.

"The scientists tried to make us perfect soldiers. Perfect fighting machines in human form. We can take a lot of punishment and still not be put down." Then, Tank turned his chair toward her. "I've noticed you can take a hard punch and not get put down like someone else would. Would you care to explain how?"

"Dread Youth training. I was top of my class, every class," she smiled at him.

Just then, the banter between Hawk and Scout became a little more audible. "I'm suave, smooth, sophisticated, why wouldn't Patricia be interested in seeing me?"

"Sort of full of yourself, aren't you," Hawk's voice answered back. "Hey, Tank, can you explain to this over-inflated walking ego that –"

"Who's over-inflated?" Scout asked in mock protest.

Jon tried to keep a straight face. This team of his, they knew how to take care of each other. This action was perfect. Jennifer got him to think logically, now Hawk and Scout would get his mind on more pleasant things – like picking on each other.

Jennifer patted Tank's shoulder. "I think you need to go save Scout from himself. I see rejection in his future."

With a smile but not a word, Tank stood and walked toward the ladder. "I think Patricia in hydroponics likes me better."

The three of them walked into the Passages, Scout laughingly protesting, Hawk jokingly picking at him, Tank keeping them from getting out of line.

Jon liked hearing it.

"Good job," he told Jennifer as they left the jumpship. "I think Tank needed to hear that."

"I've been where he is now. Sometimes, I even have to remind myself of those little speeches you guys gave me when I see what the Dread Youth do to people, that I might have been just like that if –"

"You were never like that," Jon told her. "Yes, you were angry, but you never lost your heart. If you had, then Sand Town wouldn't have hurt you as deeply as it did, and you wouldn't be here now."

He wanted to say 'with me,' but he couldn't. He was the captain, and they were fighting a war. There was no room for anything more.


	4. Chapter 4a Wardogs

Thanks to another Captain Power fan (waves hand in grateful thanks), I've found out that the episode Wardogs was scheduled to be the second episode aired. However, according to the air dates listed on IMDB and (which are two sites I used to get the episode list), Wardogs aired after episode #9 The Intruder. This might be a case of the producers having to reschedule an episode instead of airing them in order as originally planned. Wardogs is needed early in the series to establish certain plot points for future episodes (Pariah and Eden Road to name two).

I've also found out that there were two episodes that were never aired – I don't know if they were filmed. One is The Room which was to take place between #5 A Fire In The Dark and #6 The Ferryman. The other is The Rose Of Yesterday which was to take place between #9 The Intruder and #11 Flame Street. It appears that Wardogs aired in place of The Rose Of Yesterday. I only have a brief synopsis of these two unaired episodes, but I want to write a tag to those as well.

Since I've already posted The Abyss tag as story #2, I'm posting Wardogs' tag as story #4.

**Episode 4 – Wardogs**

**Jon's Point of View**

_The team discovers a resistance group in Sector 24. Their leader, an old friend of Hawk's, is convinced that the war is lost and is planning to lead her team to Eden II despite the fact that the place is considered a myth. She invites Hawk to join her as Hawk tries to convince her to stay and fight Dread. _

~*~*~*~*~

Eden II.

Was it possible for such a place to exist? How could a peaceful paradise with green grass, tall trees, and clear water be hidden in the north? How could such a location go undetected for all those years? How was that possible given Dread's surveillance over the entire planet?

It'd been a quiet flight so far as Jennifer piloted the jumpship toward the Dread facility Tank and Scout were watching. Both were thinking of Vi's plan.

"Do you think it's real?" Jennifer asked.

Jon thought for a moment. What did he think? "I don't know. Eden II has been around ever since Dread came to power. I've never believed in it. I always thought it was a story that people made up because of what Dread was doing, but something has convinced Vi and the Wardogs that it's out there. Maybe they found proof or maybe they just need to believe that it's out there and they can find it."

"A mythical place to believe in," Jennifer mused. "That's like Camelot or Avalon. I wonder if it's like all the stories we've heard."

"If Vi finds it, maybe she'll send back word someday and we'll find out," Jon said. "It could be that the stories we've heard are exaggerated. Instead of green fields, they've got hydroponic greenhouses, water filtration plants that fill up man-made lakes, artificial lighting --"

"Not very mythical," Jennifer commented. "I like the stories better. It might look like a picture Mentor showed me of the countryside before the Metal Wars. It was taken of the base about fifty years ago. He found it in the archives. There was a snow-covered mountain, green grass and trees. There was a lake with birds flying overhead. It looked so peaceful."

She was describing Old Colorado. It was a fond memory for Jon, a one-dimensional picture for Jennifer. He remembered the carefree fun he had in his childhood playing outside, what it was like to breathe clean air and have the sun shining down on him. If Eden II were like Old Colorado, it'd be like going home again for him. For Jennifer, it would be a picture come to life. He pondered for a moment about how she might like to walk through a grassy field at the foot of a mountain or wade barefoot in a clear stream. If Eden II was real, maybe they could find it themselves and she could have those experiences. Again, he was reminded that things he took for granted, she didn't know existed. He could imagine it though. For a brief moment, he could see her standing in that green field with the bright sun shining down on her for the first time. She could see a natural world in all its majesty, not in a one-dimensional picture of what used to be. So much of their world was gray. That was the only world Jennifer had ever known. The sun didn't shine brightly through the ever-present pollution. Green wasn't a color nature produced. Blue was hidden by smog and smoke. Yellow, orange and red didn't gleam through the dreariness. To Jon, a place like Eden II was a return to what used to be. To Jennifer, it would be more like a fairy tale come to life.

Only it wasn't a story. Others like Vi and the Wardogs remembered how the world used to be. That's why they needed to find Eden II. It wasn't just because they were tired of fighting a war they believed was lost. They needed to know that there was life still out there, that it wasn't all mechanical metal monsters out to destroy everything that was alive. If they could find it, if it was real, maybe there was a chance for humanity after all.

Eden II was sounding better all the time.

"Maybe Vi's right and it's out there," Jon suggested.

Jennifer smiled and nodded. "Maybe. She wanted Hawk to go with her."

That was a surprise. "You think so?"

"Did you notice how she was behaving around him? It was almost as if she were trying to convince_ him_ that it was a good plan, not just us."

No, Jon didn't notice that… or did he? Vi had stood relatively close to Hawk when they were looking at the map, and she did seem to be trying hard to convince Hawk that the Eden II contact was going to be there. Giving it careful consideration -- yes, he'd missed it. Vi wanted Hawk to go with them to Eden II.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about. Hawk's not ready to retire just yet," Jon hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Hawk had mentioned Vi a few times in years past as the 'one who got away.' He'd cared about her then. Jon knew that he still cared. Would that be enough to tempt him to go with her to Eden II? Hawk had been fighting a long time. It'd been a long war and maybe he was beginning to feel like it was already lost.

But would Hawk go off with a lost love? Was he ready to holster his weapons and give up the way of the warrior? Was the memory enough to tempt him?

It wasn't a situation that Jon had any experience with personally. Not even with Athena. True, she had asked him to go with her, but he couldn't. It wasn't a thought he entertained. She didn't hold that place in his heart since, unlike Hawk and Vi, Athena wasn't Jon's lost love. Even his younger self never thought his feelings were stronger than they actually were. She was a close, dear friend he cared for deeply but nothing more.

Emotions were the double-edged sword in the human condition. They could harm and hurt. They were certainly confusing. They were what kept you going when everything seemed hopeless. They were what connected you to another human being, and that was the most confusing of all.

That reminded Jon of something Hawk had told him years earlier. It was one of the few times that the older man had discussed his personal life. He'd mentioned Vi, and the teenage Jon was interested in knowing more.

"_So why didn't you marry Vi, Hawk?" young Jon asked him. "How'd you know Joanna was the right one?"_

"_I met Vi a few years before Joanna. We dated some. Got close. Then she was transferred to Fort Worth, and we lost touch with each other for a while. That's when I met Joanna. She was like this whirlwind that came into my life. She's the one who turned my life upside down. We got married, had two great kids, and I met up with Vi again a few years later." Hawk laughed at the memory. "I knew I'd made the right choice. Joanna was the love of my life, but that didn't change how I felt about Vi. But believe me, there is nothing more stressful than having your wife and an old girlfriend in the same room at the same time unless it's when your wife and ex-girlfriend become good friends. Hope you never have that happen to you. Let me tell you, I had more than one scary moment." Hawk lost himself in the memory momentarily. "Then the Metal Wars came and Vi and I had to go fight."_

"_You were still friends?"_

"_Yes, we were still friends, but we were more than that. We were teammates, fellow soldiers. You see, Jon, even though I had strong feelings for Vi at one time, that's all they were. I loved Joanna. When that happens, you'll know. There's no way to describe it. Sometimes it sneaks up on you or you could wake up and realize that it's been there all along. Just don't let the opportunity pass you by or you'll never forgive yourself."_

Opportunity. That was one thing Jon hoped he'd recognize when it knocked. More than that, he hoped he wasn't so unaware of it that he didn't answer.

"I hope he's not ready to retire," Jennifer agreed as she started their descent. "I like having him around. Still, if Eden II exists, it'd be something I'd love to see."

"If we find out where it is, we'll go," he promised her. Yes, war or no war, if there was an Eden II, if there was a chance to walk through a grassy field or wade barefoot in a clear stream, then Jon wanted Jennifer to see it, and he wanted to be there with her.


	5. Chapter 4b Wardogs

**Episode 4 – Wardogs**

**Hawk's Point of View**

_The team discovers a resistance group in Sector 24. Their leader, an old friend of Hawk's, is convinced that the war is lost and is planning to lead her team to Eden II despite the fact that the place is considered a myth. She invites Hawk to join her as Hawk tries to convince her to stay and fight Dread. _

~*~*~*~*~

Eden II.

The mere mention of the word brought to mind a land rumored to be a mythical paradise with tall trees, green grass and clear running streams, with soil so rich and fertile that any seed would grow into an abundant crop, where someone could actually get bored.

For a few moments, Hawk thought that retirement sounded pretty good. Sleeping late, going fishing, growing vegetables, growing bored in paradise… he couldn't blame Vi for getting out of the fight. It had been a long road for both of them, ever since the Metal Wars. Years of fighting, continually on the move, scavenging for everything from food and water to fuel and parts – it took its toll on people. That kind of constant vigilance bred exhaustion from which there was no time off except one: fading away like old soldiers do.

Yeah, boredom was sounding better and better by the minute.

Then there was Vi. Some of the old feelings were still there; there was no denying that. Seeing her was like old times, reminding him of more hopeful times when the wars didn't seem doomed to failure.

Before the Metal Wars, life was simple. Hawk met Joanna who was the best thing that ever happened to him. Then they were blessed with Mitch and Katie, and their lives were happy. He had it all. Then the Metal Wars began. He had something to fight for, a reason to not give up. He wasn't alone. There were so many soldiers fighting the machines, but Dread took every bit of their lives away. His home town of Dalworth was destroyed, his family killed, communications were lost and civilization fell. It was the not knowing that was the worst. For a long time, no one knew who was still alive and who was still fighting, and no matter how much he was hurting or how angry he was, he still had a purpose. Jon had lost everyone and everything he'd had and needed him, there was still a war to fight and people to rescue. It kept Hawk busy, and he didn't have to risk or unlock his heart.

Then there was Vi. Over fifteen years, and she still looked as beautiful as the last time he saw her. The thought of her made his heart beat a little faster. Those feelings were definitely there. Vi, alive, warm, and now far away. Sometimes, years didn't weaken the heart or the memory. It had been many years since Hawk had felt that way about anyone, and the feeling wasn't unwelcome.

However, the revelation Vi had seen immediately but Matt had been unaware of proved the point that he really must be getting old to not see what was right in front of his eyes.

~*~*~*~

_The day before_

"Come with us, Hawk. With me. We're old soldiers. It's time to fade away," Vi begged.

The idea that he could stop fighting, just lay down his arms and take up the hammock and rocking chair -- it would have been so easy to say yes, so impossible to say no. Here was a piece of his past that still held a large part of his heart. Going off to Eden II with her would mean a second chance for both of them.

Before Hawk could say anything, Cherokee rushed into Vi's room. "Colonel, scanners have picked up a ship headed this way."

Ship? Vi rushed to the scanner, her face set in grim determination, with Hawk a half-step behind. If they had another fight on their hands… "This configuration doesn't look like any known dread craft. Looks more like one of our old TFs."

That was good news. Hawk sighed in relief. "It's the captain. I must be getting old. I completely forgot to check in." He hurried out of the cave into the open ground for a clear transmission. "Power on."

He felt the usual electrical surge every time he powered up his suit. Yeah, it felt good to suit up, impress the Wardogs a little bit. Even Cherokee wanted a suit like his. "Hawk to jumpship."

"Hawk, are you all right?" Jon's worried voice answered back.

Yeah, that was Jon. Always worried about everyone on the team. "Sure am. I've got someone I want you to meet. Home in on my suit."

"We're on our way."

Hawk turned back to Vi and Cherokee who were still grinning like Cheshire cats. "So who was that?" Vi asked him.

"Captain Jonathan Power."

Cherokee's smile faltered. "Wait a minute. Captain Power himself?"

Ah, not only did the suit impress, but his boss did as well. "You've heard of him?" Hawk asked.

Cherokee gave Hawk a punch on the arm, perhaps testing the strength of the armor. "Who hasn't? He's been giving Dread even more trouble than we have for years. How do you do that flying around in an old TF? Those things were ancient when the Metal Wars were in the headlines."

"We've got the best pilot around. Oh, one more thing," Hawk said in a low voice, "whatever you do, don't say one bad word about the ship, especially about her age or us getting a new one. Our pilot takes meticulous care of that ship, and she takes it personally if someone insults it."

~*~*~*~*~

"Hawk!" Jon yelled as Cherokee escorted him and Jennifer into the cave. He looked around, seeing the rugged soldiers carrying their weapons at the ready. "Everything okay?"

"Fine, fine." Hawk answered as he walked over to Jon. "I want you to meet Colonel Vivian Tucker, commander of Wardog Company. She and I fought together in the Metal Wars. Vi, this is Captain Jonathan Power and Corporal Jennifer Chase."

Vi shook hands with her 'guests,' a surprised look on her face. "Captain, it's good to meet you. I see you have to put up with this old war bird these days, huh?"

"Somewhat," Jon laughed. "I take it he hasn't changed much?"

Vi smiled. "Not much. Little older, little grayer, little more forgetful…"

Hawk cleared his throat. "Let's not talk about my age either, okay?" he prompted Vi. Then, to Jon, "The Wardogs are heading out pretty soon. They've got a way out."

Jon and Jennifer glanced at each other when they heard that. "Heading out?" Jennifer asked.

Vi nodded. "We're going to Eden II."

~*~*~*~*~

Vi laid out her plan step by step for her guests. It was well thought out, meticulous and planned to the last detail, but it all hinged on one thing – that Eden II existed.

Finally, Vi summed up her explanation. "We'll rendezvous with the Eden contact here in one week." She pointed to a particular point on the map.

Jon shook his head. "You'll never make it. Dread has that entire quadrant sealed off. Let us take you to the Passages. You'll be safe there."

One of the Wardogs, Heiko, disagreed. "Vi will get us through in time."

"What if there is no Eden II?" Jennifer asked. "What if it is just a myth or a trap?"

"Then we'll find someplace else," Vi answered. "It's been a long, hard war for us. War's over. We lost. We could keep fighting, but earth is run by the Dreadheads now."

Hawk understood the sentiment, but he could never follow it. Declaring defeat while there was still one breath in his body was not something he could do. "Captain, talk to her. Tell her it's suicide."

Jon looked at Jennifer. Both were speechless. What could they say?

"Save your breath," Vi told them. "We've been through a lot worse to get this far. We're going to take the chance, no matter what happens." She leaned over and gave Matt a kiss on the cheek. "Take care, Matt," she whispered as she walked off.

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk knew there would be no dissuading Vi. He knew her far too well for that. Even if he couldn't talk her out of it, he could at least help her with whatever information he had about the quadrant, point out where Dread units were on the map, any kind of troop movement he knew about. He hurried after her as soon as Jon and Jennifer left to catch up with Scout and Tank.

"So that's the famous Captain Power," Vi commented as she folded up some maps and stuffed them in her backpack. "He's a bit more laid back than I expected after fighting Dread all these years. And that corporal, isn't she a little young to be a pilot?"

Hawk nodded his head. "Aren't they all young?"

"And getting younger all the time," Vi agreed. "Sometimes, I feel more like a den mother than a commander. Or maybe a dorm mother. How old is she?"

"The one rule that has stood the test of time is never ask a lady her age," Hawk laughed. "To tell the truth, I don't know how old she is. I don't think she knows either."

"So what's the story there?"

That question took Hawk by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't notice the looks between those two? There's something going on," Vi told him.

Looks? What looks? "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Hawk, you're not that old. You can't tell that there's something going on between those two?"

Going on? Okay, maybe he was getting older and the hair on his head was a little thinner, but he never had trouble seeing what was right in front of him.

Vi laughed. "Oh, Hawk, before one would answer, they'd look at each other like they were trying to decide what answer to give. There's some kind of unspoken communication going on. You haven't noticed?"

"No," Hawk answered truthfully, but if there was something going on between Jon and Jennifer... what behaviors had Hawk observed that would support that? He thought… "I guess that explains a few things. Lately, Jon's been taking Pilot with him on more missions. He's teasing her about the ship a little more these days, but I thought that was because she understood the jokes better these days --"

"So there might be something there?" Vi asked.

"Yeah, there might," Hawk answered, "but I don't think they know it yet."

Vi's eyebrow raised at the thought. "Really? Why not? Don't tell me he's hiding behind the rule that fraternization is against regulations between commanders and subordinates. We're far beyond that stage now."

Were they? Jon did have a rather lax command structure, but there were lines he didn't cross. "Maybe we are, but it's not as cut and dried with them. She's learning how to deal with feelings and Jon buried his a long time ago. It's a long story, and there's some history they'll have to deal with."

"His?"

Hawk thought for a moment. "More hers, to tell the truth."

"Well, I love a long story," Vi told him, "but I seem to remember that you were good at condensing a tall tale." She smiled as she placed her backpack on the ground and sat down.

Hawk laughed. "Okay, long story short, Jon's father was killed by Dread when he was fifteen. Jon was focused on stopping Dread any way he could. He studied and improved the power suits, developed friendships and trading relationships with towns, recruited other groups to fight in the Resistance that he would have liked you to do, looked long and hard for the right people to put on the team – it became his life. There wasn't much time for personal feelings. There was the occasional girl he'd meet, but there was nothing serious or long-term."

"Sounds like a lonely way to live," Vi commented.

"In some ways, it was. Then, one day, we met Jennifer. There's another long story – "

"And the short version?" Vi prompted.

Hawk sighed. It wasn't a secret, but they didn't casually talk about Jennifer's past. "Jennifer was a Youth Leader in the Dread Youth, found out everything she'd been taught was a lie and she risked her life to get away. Escaping almost killed her. By the time we found her, she was on her last leg."

"Wait a minute," Vi held up her hand. "I didn't think it was possible for a Dread Youth to break the brainwashing."

"It's not supposed to be, so you can imagine how we felt when we met her. Here was this scared girl being chased by clickers, being saved by who she'd been told was her sworn enemy, exhausted and about to pass out from her wounds, and none of us had any idea what to make of her."

Vi thought for a moment. "But she's a member of your team. How did that happen?"

"Not overnight," Hawk told her. "She didn't know anything about being human. She didn't known music or poetry or dancing. It was a while before we even saw her smile. While we were helping her understand what it was like to be human, she was telling us what it was like to raised in the Dread Youth. No parents, no love, no physical contact, no music or art. It was all duty and routines and those blasted litanies Dread had them recite. She's devoted a lot of time to learning all the things Dread denied her all those years, and we're there to fill in the blanks. She's come a long way, and it's been a rocky learning experience for all of us."

"It must have been difficult for all of you, especially with you being the Resistance and her being Dread Youth."

Hawk nodded. "It was. She's been through a lot in the time we've known her. She's stronger than anyone I've ever met. Fearless. It would take a woman like that to get Jon's attention and keep it, but her life has been so restricted, she's still trying to find her way."

Vi started giggling.

"What?" Hawk asked.

"I'm guessing you and your other teammates will have more to talk about now than just baseball scores," she joked.

~*~*~*~*~

_The day after_

Walking through the corridors of the Power Base, Hawk mused on lost loves, conversations, new revelations…

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that there had been hints. He should have known that something was developing between Jon and Jennifer. For whatever reason, he hadn't noticed. Maybe he didn't want to. They lived in a perpetual war zone. Any mission could be their last or one of them might not return. They all lived with that one fact that there might be someone missing at the dinner table someday. Developing romantic feelings for anyone was a risky proposition at the best of times. For those two, at this time, the risk was even greater.

He heard something up ahead. Quietly, he walked until he could see Mentor's computer monitor. Sitting there, Jon and Jennifer were engaged in a game of chess. The late night games were becoming something of a routine for them.

"Check," Jennifer said. "And I'll have mate in three moves."

Hawk saw 'that' look between them again. That's when he knew for certain. Jon and Jennifer didn't realize they had a look like that. He also knew when three was a crowd and wasn't going to interrupt them.

"Think so?" Jon asked.

"Definitely. See if you can get out of this predicament if you don't believe me," she dared.

Amused, Hawk turned around and started to walk back down the corridor, but turned back at the last moment. Yeah, there was that look again that neither one of them knew they shared. Maybe the heart knew what the mind didn't know to admit? Hawk had been lucky. He'd loved two extraordinary women in his life. One, he lost to the war. The other, he let go because he had to fight in the war. It wasn't over, not for him. He had to make a choice, and his choice was to stay and fight.

Hopefully, the two people playing chess in the control room wouldn't have to make a choice like that.

Then, to himself, he said, "They're young, Vi, but they've got time to work things out."


	6. Chapter 5 Pariah

**Episode 5 – Pariah**

_Hawk finds troopers chasing a child who is unknowingly carrying a plague that leaves people comatose and easy pickings for Soaron. While the team rushes to Hawk's side, Soaron attacks, forcing down the jumpship so it's a race against time to rescue both Hawk and the boy._

~*~*~*~*~

Two days.

That was how long Hawk had been unconscious. "Mitch" had been staying close, perhaps feeling protective of the first person who had shown him any kindness in possibly years. What little Jon and the others had learned from the boy, Soaron digitized his family and all the people of the town he lived in. He had no one left from his past. Scout contacted the Passages and arranged for Mitch to go there, but only after Hawk finally woke up. There was no way the boy was leaving Hawk just yet. He had a genuine affection towards the older man -- that much was evident.

A child. Dread had used a child to be the carrier of a plague. There was no depth to the man's evil. To make it worse, Mitch was just the beginning. Jon had no doubt that Dread was planning to use others as carriers and set them loose on the human populations.

Jon walked down to the landing bay to check on Jennifer. Soaron had blasted a hole in _her_ jumpship, so she had worked all hours of the last two days to repair it. It was also a repeat of an old behavior that Jon had not seen in some time. When she had first joined the team, life was stressful for her since she had no experience dealing with everyday situations that people outside Volcania dealt with daily. Each mission had some new learning experience. Back then, when she was upset and didn't know how to deal with such a situation, she worked. She would go a couple of days without sleep, repairing or maintaining who-knows-how-many pieces of equipment until the anger worked itself out. Sometimes, talking helped, sometimes it didn't. As time passed and she learned how to understand her emotions better, the round-the-clock work marathons ended. Something about this mission had bothered her more than usual, perhaps on a more personal level, so the jumpship was getting her undivided attention.

"Cut my power supply," Jon listened to her mutter as he leaned against the wall and watched her work on the circuits in question. "Miserable flying monster blasts _my_ ship, tries to shoot us out of the sky, and practically destroys the entire power supply." She looked at the nose of the jumpship. "Who does Soaron think he is? Doing this to _my_ ship? He has no respect for my work or my personal property."

Jon smiled as he watched her work. Before, she would be furious and the poor parts in need of repair would bear the brunt of her anger. This time, it seemed more like irritation at Soaron and annoyance at the fact it was _her_ jumpship that was damaged instead of 'the captain's ship.'

She did love that jumpship.

She patted the hull where she was working. "Don't you worry. I'll have you up in the air and flying like new in no time."

Right. Now she was comforting the ship. That was Hawk's influence. He had told her about how people once felt about their cars, how they imbued them with an imagined personality and talked to them. Just because it was just an inanimate object didn't mean you couldn't talk to it. In any case, if it made you feel better, what was the harm?

Talking to the jumpship in an almost cajoling tone also meant that she wasn't feeling raw anger, but there was something wrong. The fact she was being extra careful with the parts was a good sign that she wouldn't mind if he interrupted her. Maybe he could find out what was wrong and help her deal with it.

"Have you given her a name yet?" Jon asked as he pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to her.

Jennifer smiled. "No, and this ship is over fifteen years old. None of you ever named her, so it won't hurt her feelings if it takes a little longer for me to find the perfect name for her. Hawk keeps making suggestions, but nothing feels right yet. How's he doing this morning?"

"Still unconscious but the fever's gone. Mitch is with him."

Jennifer didn't say anything to that. She lost her smile and turned back to her work. Whatever was wrong was connected with Mitch. "He's been through a lot."

"More than a child should," Jon agreed. "I know Dread will stoop to any level to get what he wants, but he stole a child from his family and used him as a weapon."

Jennifer grabbed a circuit and gently pulled it free from the power supply. "That's nothing new," she muttered. She picked up a power probe and began checking every lead on the circuit. The look on her face worried him.

"Jennifer?"

When she didn't respond, Jon reached over and gently took the probe from her hands. "What's wrong?"

Jennifer was quiet for a moment, as if trying to decide exactly what to say. Then, "This mission brought back some bad memories. That's all."

Bad memories? Jennifer had more than her fair share. Some of her memories would horrify the casual listener if they didn't know how bad the Dread Youth could be. After all the conversations they'd had in the past, Jon recognized the signal she just gave him. Jennifer wasn't the type of person to burden anyone with unwanted conversation about her life before she joined the team. She wouldn't say anything further unless he wanted to hear it, so all he had to do was ask, and ask he did. "If you want to talk, I'm here. I may not always understand some of what you went through, but I'm more than willing to listen." Sometimes, listening was all he could do the few times she spoke directly about her past.

She twirled the circuit in her hands once or twice before setting it down. "I never told you everything that happened when I escaped, have I?"

"Not all of it," Jon agreed. "I could make a few guesses, but I know some of it had to be pretty bad."

Jennifer took a deep breath. "A lot of things happened in the span of a few days that completely changed everything for me," she confided in him. She leaned against the hull of the ship and took a deep breath. "I honestly didn't know what happened during those attacks before Sand Town. I could quote the slogans and the litanies, but I didn't know the meaning behind them until that day. I saw people killed. I saw some herded into groups. Some were taken away in small bands guarded by troopers. At one point, I walked away from the Overunit on some pretense. I don't even remember what I said to be excused. I heard a noise and when I went to investigate, I saw Soaron digitizing the people who were being taken away. They were helpless, crying, trying to protect each other and then they were just… gone."

"Like the people we saw him digitize at that camp." Jon could only imagine what she saw on a mass scale. It was the stuff of nightmares.

"After Sand Town, I knew I had to leave, but escaping the Dread Youth wasn't easy. It probably still isn't. All movement is monitored. Everyone is accounted for before and after a mission. I knew that if I could get away, I didn't know which way to go or what I was going to do. I just knew I had to leave no matter what happened to me afterwards. I needed specific geographical information about the outside. I hacked into the Territorial Sector archives and found my way into the files that were off limits to us. One of the files I found was early Youth registries buried in some of the historical files."

Youth registry histories. Jon had never thought about the pasts of the Dread Youth soldiers. Hadn't they all been born and raised in Volcania? "You found out something?" Jon prompted.

"Some things I'm sure a lot of people who lived out here knew but none of us did," she told him. "According to the data, Dread started the Dread Youth twenty-two years ago. He started secretly. Before that, he recruited an army of technicians, soldiers and scientists to help establish his dream of a mechanized world, but he knew he needed troops whose loyalty was absolute and who would die for his cause. He convinced those loyal to him to turn their children over to him so he could train them. They just handed over their children to Dread so the Machine could teach them. Others, he stole from their families. He'd send a small raiding party into areas where security was practically non-existent and take the children. They killed many of the townspeople, destroyed some of the towns to cover up what they were doing, made it look like anything or anyone other than his forces destroyed it. Every year, he increased the number of children he took. The idea was to have an army who would willingly produce more soldiers for him once they were old enough. Until then, we were weapons or cannon fodder, whichever definition works better."

Twenty-two years ago? Jon didn't realize it was that long ago. Dread had only been in power for fifteen years. He'd been planning his takeover for that long? And the children would grow up to be breeding stock as well as his army? "No wonder Dread hid all that from everybody. If people knew what he was planning before he made his move, they'd have stopped him, especially taking the children."

"He took away everything that made us an individual. He hid all the records of our identities, our names, our birthplaces – all of it was buried in the computer files. There was even some reference to some possible genetic changes, but I couldn't find anything out about that."

That was information Jon had never considered. "So none of the Dread Youth would know who they really were or where they came from even if they found the archives." Then, another thought crossed his mind. "Does that mean that Jennifer Chase isn't your real name?"

"I don't think it is. At least, it isn't according to the data archives. I searched for _Jennifer Chase_ as well as the names of a few other youth leaders and overunits I knew. None of them were there. The names that were listed in the file had complete histories -- who they were, where they were born, their full names – but I had never met any of them."

"But there are so many Dread Youth… could those particular individuals been assigned to a different section?" Jon asked.

"I thought of that, but what I saw disproved that idea. The files were cataloged by the sectors the children were taken from and the names of the children taken. I ran a search on the names from a particular town, and they didn't exist in any current registry. The names of people I knew and searched for didn't exist in the registries until they were brought into Volcania, so –"

"Dread changed all your names," Jon finished for her. "He was making sure that Volcania was your home and the Dread Youth was your family in every way possible." But twenty-two years ago? How had everyone missed what was going on years before the Metal Wars?

Jennifer picked up the circuit again, stared at it as if it held all the secrets of the universe. "Maybe. He might have done that so that if anyone came looking for their son or daughter, they wouldn't be able to find them. I'm sure there are files somewhere in Volcania that would have the cross-references, but I didn't look for them. There wasn't time. I was being sent on another mission that day, and I was going to escape when we got to our destination. At the time, it didn't matter that I didn't know where I came from or which direction to go. I knew if I was caught, I'd be killed or digitized or I would die out there in the wilderness. After what happened in Sand Town, I didn't deserve better."

"You didn't know," Jon told her. He had said it before; in fact, he repeated it the few times she spoke of Sand Town, but it didn't assuage her guilt.

Jennifer took the probe back and started to work on the circuit again. "Dread stole us as children and used us as weapons. He did the same thing with Mitch, and he hid it all behind slogans. It was all for the glory of the Machine." She tested the relays on the circuit board, yes, it was working again, and it only took two days to get it back into working condition. "I believed them. There I was, a weak, imperfect organic who served the Machine." Then, sarcastically, she said, "All those stories about how a squad would trap organics some place and then Soaron would swoop in and digitize them? It was a good thing. We were told that since those organics were all enemies of the Machine, Soaron's actions were highly laudable and commendable."

"Very commendable to Dread," Jon agreed.

"I didn't know it was all lies until Sand Town. That's when I saw it all for what it was, and none of what I had been told was true. There was no honor in those actions. It was just murder and digitization of innocent people who were trying to survive. There was nothing perfect about the Machine, it was what was destroying everything and Soaron was more than happy to help."

"So when we saw Soaron digitize those comatose townspeople –"

"All of it brought up a lot of bad memories. None of us had a choice, not Mitch, not anyone in the Dread Youth. Dread turned us into something we're not, and it wasn't our choice." She placed the circuit back into the power supply. "I'm sorry. I don't have a right to feel sorry for myself. It's just seeing Soaron then meeting Mitch -- it just hit me all at once and made me angry. Dread keeps doing whatever he wants without caring how his actions destroy people. No one should have the ability to turn children into weapons."

Jon stood up and moved behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders to let her know that he would always stand behind her, no matter what. How could one so young be so strong as to shoulder so much guilt and responsibility for what someone else forced her to do? It took a courage and a strength Jon didn't think he had. He admired her all the more. "The one thing you have never done is feel sorry for yourself. And it's okay to be angry when the memories are stirred up like this. Sometimes, you just have to let yourself be angry."

Jennifer flipped a switch and the power supply came online. "Ever notice we all have to remind each other of that from time to time?"

"Yeah, maybe one day we'll remember it." Jon stood on his tiptoes to see inside the hole in the hull. Now, there was only the outer structural damage that needed repairing. "Do you think Mitch will be able to get past the anger and the bad memories?"

Jennifer nodded her head. "He's a strong kid. There's a lot of hope for him. There'll be people in the Passages who'll help him, and he has Hawk now. I didn't know what it was like to have friends until I met all of you, but there's one thing I know for certain -- having friends is one of the best ways to help someone through something like that. They help you realize that there's a better life out there with people who care about you and want to be there for you no matter what."

He looked back at her, into those smiling, appreciative gray eyes and immediately realized the double meaning. She was grateful for her friends who helped her through the bad times too.


	7. Chapter 6 The Mirror In The Darkness

**Episode 6 – The Mirror In The Darkness**

_An Overunit disguises himself as Captain Power to lure unsuspecting people into Soaron's digitizing beam. When Power is captured and thought to be the traitor, he has to go to extreme measures to convince the townspeople that he is one of the good guys._

~*~*~*~*~

Nighttime at the Power Base. After a rather tense day of dealing with his "double" and all the problems he had caused, Jon was enjoying a relaxing moment, one in which his mind was being exercised instead of his body.

"I've got checkmate in four moves," Jennifer stated proudly.

Well, he _was_ enjoying it.

He should have known she would gain the advantage quickly and stealthily. He was matching his tactical wits against someone who was proving to be more of a challenge each time they played. Her prowess at chess was getting quite formidable.

"Four moves?" Jon stared at the monitor. It just wasn't fair. He had taught _her_ to play chess, and she could beat him practically every time! "No… wait… I can…" He studied what moves were available to him… "You are _way_ too good at this game."

"Maybe it's just that you were a good teacher," she suggested.

"I just taught you the moves. You're the one who comes up with the strategy," he told her as he reset the board. "Best two out of three?"

"Sure."

Jon made the first move and watched as Jennifer countered. Interesting… she wasn't making an aggressive move in response. Perhaps she was trying to lull him into a sense of false security?

"How are the repairs to the ship coming along?"

"I've got the major repairs completed. It's just another gaping hole in the hull that needs patching up. That's the fourth time in two months Soaron's blasted a hole in the hull. Sometimes, it feels like I'm spending more time in the landing bay repairing her than doing anything else."

That was true. There had been a few occasions when Jon had found her sitting in the pilot's seat, exhausted, fast asleep with her spanner balanced in her lap and some piece of circuitry almost falling out of her hand. Soaron's attacks were becoming more frequent and ultimately more violent when they clashed. If they only had a cloaking device… but a ship that small couldn't harbor the power resources needed to operate such a mechanism.

"Maybe we need to build another jumpship," Jon suggested as he moved another chess piece. He needed to distract her just a little, just enough to make a wrong move. "You know, to use as a back-up when the main ship is damaged."

"You'd make the ship we have now jealous." She countered his move easily. "She has feelings, pride, a bit of an ego," she teased back.

"Maybe," he found an opening and moved a chess piece there. "Maybe if you ever name our current jumpship, getting a new ship and not naming it wouldn't make the one we have now jealous?" Distracting her was not working like he planned.

She moved her chess piece in position. "Check. And you're making fun of _my_ ship because I haven't named it yet, aren't you?"

Jon thought he might be in a little trouble until he noticed she was grinning. "Maybe just a little. And you don't have me in check yet. Watch." He moved another piece.

"Interesting move," Jennifer thought for a moment before moving another chess piece. "So tell me about your double. What was he like?"

Ah, so now she was trying to distract him with the discovery of their latest mission. "He had a similar voice but not a similar style of speaking. He could fit my general description but he didn't look like me – dark hair, same color eyes, tall, but that's about all. We had the same uniform but his wasn't blaster-proof. He was an overunit but he didn't look like a Dread Youth though."

That definitely got her attention on the story and away from the chess game. "What do you mean?"

Jon thought for a moment. "It was partly the hair and the eyes, but there was something else. It's like he wasn't behaving in a military manner."

That made sense to her. "Then he wasn't raised in the Dread Youth," she told him. "For whatever reason, all Dread Youth soldiers fit the same general profile with blonde hair and gray eyes. Your double was probably an older volunteer who worked his way up through the ranks or did something that got Dread's attention and was appointed as an Overunit instead of earning the position."

"That must be what he meant," Jon moved another chess piece to what he hoped was a secure location. "He said he was Lord Dread's favorite, and I'd pay if I harmed him. I wasn't aware that Dread played favorites?"

"He has favorites all the time. He needs a particular soldier for a particular long-term mission, then that soldier becomes his favorite for a time with all the privileges and extras that go along with the distinction. Once the mission is over, Dread sends them somewhere very important, telling them that the assignment is vital to his plans and he can't trust anyone else with it. The soldier goes away and is never seen or heard from again." She frowned as she studied the move Jon made. She studied the board intently, forming her next plan of action. "Personally, I think he gives them to Overmind just to get them out of the way." Jon was setting up the board so her pieces would have to chase his instead of trapping them…

"Soaron digitized him," Jon watched as Jennifer studied his chess moves, "so if Dread isn't happy with him…"

"He'll find out that the Machine has teeth," Jennifer told him as she made her move.

_She is good_, Jon thought to himself. How was he going to counter that move?

Admiringly, he noted that she was more than just good at chess. She was good at learning about life and adapting to it. She rolled with the punches, and the worse things got, the more she didn't let it beat her. This adventure showed Jon something he had never considered before. He'd seen it, he'd witnessed it, and he had no idea that he had not understood it. Until now. He had walked a mile in her shoes or so the saying went.

He moved another chess piece, hoping that it was a wise move. "You know, I never realized how hard it was for you when you first joined us, especially when we would go to some of the outposts."

She was somewhat surprised at the sudden change of topic. "What do you mean?" She countered his move without looking at the board.

"The way people treated you then." He looked into her eyes. "When those townspeople thought I was the one who had betrayed them, they hated me because they thought I was someone or something else. They would have killed me for revenge because of what they thought I'd done to them. I couldn't make them understand that it wasn't me, that it had to be someone else. There was a lot of anger directed at me for something I didn't do. I can't imagine how you dealt with so much more than that time and again. Some of the people we were trying to help then were downright hostile to you just because you looked like the other Dread Youth soldiers, and you never once let it get to you. You went in, accomplished the mission and I know it had to have bothered you. I just didn't know how much." He pressed a button on the computer and made another chess move. "That took a strength and courage I've never seen before."

Jennifer sat back and stared at the monitor, contemplating her next move. "There was nothing courageous about it. I deserved what I got. I couldn't blame them or hate them for being so angry with me. The Dread Youth did horrible things everywhere they went. I was a convenient target. They had every reason to not want me there. I had to prove to everyone including myself that I was Jennifer Chase, a Resistance fighter and not Youth Leader Chase anymore, if I was ever really Youth Leader Chase."

Jon had often wondered Jennifer viewed those years now that she knew herself better. She would talk a little more about personal topics during their impromptu chess games, so it was during those times that Jon could learn more about her. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed their games so much. "Maybe you only held the rank, not the position," he posed.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

What did he mean? How could he phrase his answer? "Everything you learned in the Dread Youth – discipline, leadership, command, electronics, flying, logical thinking – all of it allowed you to become the youngest Youth Leader ever, but that didn't mean it taught you how to be like a Machine. You still felt and empathized with others. I think that even though you held the rank of Youth Leader, you never gave up your humanity, and that's what you would have had to do to be a real Youth Leader. You didn't have to prove to anyone that you weren't Youth Leader Chase. You just had to prove that you weren't a Dread Youth, and you did that every day with the Resistance."

"Maybe." She had a hard time accepting that she had proven that she wasn't a Dread Youth. Now, Jon understood a little better. Like with the imposter, no matter how much he protested or proved that he hadn't betrayed those townspeople, there would still be those who thought he'd deceived them and would always harbor some small element of doubt. It had to be far worse for someone who had once been in the Dread Youth.

"I still wonder about Sand Town though, if there was something I could have done. That day --"

"That day proved to everyone that you weren't like the others," Jon said emphatically, knowing how that day still haunted her but not knowing all the details. It was one of the events in her past that she couldn't get beyond. Whatever happened that day, whatever it was she hadn't told him, she couldn't let it go or get past it. Maybe one day, she'd be able to tell him what it was. "You just wore the uniform."

"For most, that was enough to hate me. It still is," Jennifer countered his move easily. "Remember when all of you first found me?"

Jon nodded his head. "I remember." He wasn't going to forget that moment in their shared history.

"The first thing Hawk said to you over the radio was that I was one of Dread's soldiers. I was still wearing the uniform. It was torn, dirty and ragged, and you had to look hard to tell it was a Youth Leader uniform. You didn't give it a second thought. Why?"

That was an easy question to answer. "In all the years I'd fought Dread's soldiers, I'd never seen one fight biomech troopers or not shoot at us. I knew when we found you that you were special. You weren't like the others. Why else would you escape?"

Jennifer considered his words, but just shook her head. "You couldn't have known that you could trust me," she pointed out. "I was a Dread Youth. I could have been bait in a trap or part of a bigger plan to capture all of you."

"Could have been, but you weren't. I can't tell you how we knew. We just did." That wasn't the truth. Jon knew. He knew exactly why. After Hawk had radioed the jumpship and they made a quick landing to pick up the wounded soldier before more biomechs could arrive, Jon saw her eyes. They weren't the emotionless, soulless eyes Jon had seen in other Dread troops. There was pain she was trying not to admit, fear that she was trying not to accept and utter surprise that anyone would be concerned about her. Those weren't the eyes of someone who was 'of the Machine.' Those were the eyes of someone who had just discovered their humanity.

Jennifer seemed to consider his words. Before, she couldn't have understood anyone wanting to help a person because it was the right thing to do. Now, after a few years with the team, the desire to help those in need burned strong in her. The young woman they had rescued from the biomechs had traveled a long way from confusion to commitment. Every day, Jon saw her determination exercise itself in everything she did.

"Well, there's one thing you couldn't have known," she told him.

"What's that?"

Jennifer made one final move on the chessboard. "Checkmate."

"What? No! Wait… There is… I…" He saw she had beaten him again, calmly, easily, and he hadn't even seen it coming. Did he mention that not only was she determined but also ruthless at times?

He hit the reset button on the computer. "Best three out of five?"


	8. Chapter 7 A Fire In The Dark

**Episode 7 – A Fire In The Dark**

_Jessica Morgan, a talented artist who was blinded years earlier in one of Dread's first raids, is the key to Dread obtaining a physical mechanical symmetry for his biodread army. Power and the team try to protect her, but when she leaves on her own to meet up with Dread, she learns that the world she knew has been sacrificed for a nightmare world of Dread's 'mechanical perfection.'_

~*~*~*~*~

There were no more city lights shining in the nighttime. There were no more car horns or loud engines echoing down the roads. There were no more skyscrapers or city parks or pigeons pecking the ground in search of food. There were only memories from those who had seen them before. Pictures of cities weren't abundant, neither were paintings. The only way to "see" the world as it used to be was to have someone who had seen it describe it in detail to those who never had.

Jessica Morgan was a wealth of information about the city that-used-to-be. Perhaps after viewing the ruin and devastation left behind by Dread's constant warring, she felt a need to talk about how it once was, perhaps how it could be again once Dread was defeated. The somewhat rambling conversation started on the flight back to the base. On the outside chance that they could be attacked, Jon had Jessica ride with Jennifer, without doubt the best pilot in the group, while the rest of them flew guard. When Jessica started talking about her life before the Wars, Jennifer had quietly urged her to continue by asking leading questions. One was about Jessica's home.

"My studio was on a side street off Seventh Avenue. I lived on the fifth floor, and had to climb the stairs when the elevator didn't work… which was often. The landlord would not go to the expense of fixing it. It was small but cozy. There was a community garden in the alley below my living room window. I grew potatoes, carrots and cucumbers. Once a month, all of us who used the garden would have a picnic and bring food that we grew. The party would go on late into the night. Those were such fun times."

"I didn't know that there were gardens in the city," Jennifer commented.

"Not many," Jessica told her. "Small tracts of land had to be set aside by the city planners so people could have community gardens. Occasionally, building developers would come in, buy up the tracts and build skyscrapers. I guess we were lucky to still have parks where we could ride bicycles and walk our dogs."

"What's a bicycle?" Jennifer asked.

"A bicycle?" Jessica's voice sounded somewhat surprised. "It's a two-wheeled riding vehicle. Children rode them a lot, but so did a lot of adults. You've never learned how to ride one?"

"I've never heard of them," Jennifer told her.

"Oh," Jessica's voice sounded sad. "I hadn't considered that some very ordinary things didn't exist anymore."

"I've been told life was very different," Jennifer told her. "A lot of things don't exist anymore."

"I saw the ruins," Jessica said. "My city that was so beautiful at night is gone."

"What was it like at night?" Jennifer asked.

"It was magnificent. I loved it, especially just after one or two in the morning. I always was something of a night owl. All the lights, all the sounds – I got a lot of my inspiration for my artwork then. Have you never seen the city at night?"

"No, not really. I did see a picture of it once. It looked crowded with all the cars," Jennifer pointed out.

"Oh, it was. So many people, all of them running this way and that. And the noises, it was so busy and loud. There were headlights and streetlights everywhere. It had a life all its own that was so different from the daytime," Jessica explained. "I think you might have liked it as well. Did you grow up in the country?"

Jennifer didn't say anything at first, then, "Not exactly. I grew up in Volcania."

That seemed to surprise Jessica. "Volcania? Where Taggart lives? With all those machines?"

"With all the machines."

Jessica thought for a moment. "I thought that the only people who grew up in Volcania were the children Taggart trained as his personal army."

"The Dread Youth. I was one of them until I learned what they were, and then I escaped."

"And now you're with the Resistance?" The idea seemed difficult to comprehend. "You broke the training? I would never have thought that possible."

"It is. The team found me after I ran away and asked me to join. I've been with them ever since."

"Coming up on the base," Hawk yelled, interrupting them. "Start descent."

The thoughts that were going through Jessica's mind would have to wait until later.

~*~*~*~*~

Jessica sat in the guest quarters at the base, thinking about all that had transpired over the course of a few hours. So much was changed, even more was destroyed, and she hadn't realized the extent of it all. Her view of the world lived only in her memory. Taggart had sacrificed everything for his vision. Yet it wasn't just the fact that so much was gone that distressed Jessica. It was the _memory_ of things lost that was gone as well. If simple things like bicycles could be forgotten in a single generation, what else would be lost forever because of Taggart's destruction?

Her world was gone, and she didn't like this new world they were forced to survive in.

Then there was the Resistance. She had never met Resistance fighters before; she just accepted the fact that there were soldiers fighting Dread. Now that her path had crossed Power's team, she learned so much and, to use a pun, her eyes were opened to the truth.

Life was far worse than she had imagined it to be, and people had no idea of what they were missing.

A knock on the door interrupted her musing, and she said in a loud voice, "Come in."

She heard the door open and smelled the enticing aroma of warm food. "I thought you might like some lunch," Captain Power's voice cut through the darkness.

She heard her stomach growl in response to the idea of food. "Oh, thank you, Captain. Yes, I would."

Jon placed the plate in her hands and then handed her the fork. "We contacted your friends. They'll meet us later today at the rendezvous point."

She could hear an almost resigned tone in his voice. It had been a long day, and he was tired.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bother. I shouldn't have left the way I did. I didn't mean to cause all that trouble or endanger all of you. I just didn't want Taggart to hurt anyone else."

She heard Jon take a seat at the makeshift table. "I understand. I probably would have done the same thing in the same situation."

Jessica tried a bite of the lunch. Edible, but that was the only description she would give to it. Even though she would rather live in the darkness than in the world Dread dreamed of, she did wish she could see some things like food or a friendly smile. As they were leaving the Dread facility, before her sight was taken away from her again, she had a glimpse at the Power team. She was able to put faces with the voices and emotions with the faces. Those few brief moments had allowed her an insight that sound alone might not have given her. Perhaps the captain would be more informative if she were to ask a few questions. "Taggart seems to not like your team, Captain. I have to admit I'm curious about them. I take it they're somewhat unique."

Jon could only agree. "That they are. I don't think there's another resistance group that has the varied abilities my team has. We come from all walks of life, different backgrounds, and each has their own expertise."

Jessica took another bite of lunch. Okay, it was barely edible. She doubted that the Power team had time to plant a garden. They may not have had fresh fruits or vegetables for a long time, only reconstituted nutrients.

"Let me see if I can describe them from what I've heard," she suggested. "Hawk is former military. I can sense a type of discipline in him that you don't find with civilians."

"Right. He was a combat pilot in the Metal Wars," Jon confirmed for her.

"And Tank. He's very strong yet gentle. He acts as infantry in a sense? I've only heard an accent like his a few times before, from someone who was in one of the Babylon sites."

"Babylon 5," Jon answered. "He was one of the leaders of the revolt."

Jessica smiled and took another bite. It was going from being barely edible to not-hardly-edible. Still, she wouldn't insult her host by not eating what was offered.

"Then there's Scout. He's a computer expert and good with technology; I would guess he grew up in one of the technical settlements. If I were to pose a scenario about how you met, it would be that all of you were in the same place at the same time trying to bring down a Dread facility, and you thought he would make a good addition to the team."

She heard Jon laugh. "Close," he told her. "We did work together before he joined the team. He's very good at what he does."

"And makes you laugh while he does it," Jessica added.

"Yes, ma'am, that he does. Sometimes, there's not a lot to laugh about in our line of work."

"The one I can't begin to understand is Pilot. Tell me about her. She truly was in the Dread Youth?"

Somehow, Jon didn't seem surprised at the question. "She was. Top of her classes, youngest youth leader ever appointed. She probably would have been the youngest overunit in the Dread Youth, but she found out the truth behind Dread's new world and risked everything to escape."

Jessica took another bite as she considered that. She didn't think she was going to be able to finish her food. The taste was becoming more unappealing. "But I thought no one ever broke through the training."

"Jennifer's special."

Ah, _Jennifer_, not _Pilot _or_ Corporal Chase_, Jessica noticed. Perhaps there was more to the story than she first thought. And his voice… his voice became softer, more inflective. It was how he said her name that said more than mere words ever could. "How did you find her?"

"Alone and fighting," Jon told her. Jessica could sense he was smiling. "She'd found out the truth, and she couldn't stay there any longer. She decided to escape. There aren't many ways a soldier can get away from the Dread forces because they're monitored, but she played dead after an attack. She couldn't arouse anyone's suspicions before she left, so she had to leave without any survival gear."

"None at all?" Jessica was surprised. It was considered madness to go out into the wilderness without food and water.

"She couldn't risk it. I don't know what happened out there, and she's never really told me the details. I know it wasn't good. It was early winter, and she had been out there for weeks by the time we found her. We were flying a patrol over the sector when we picked up a single life sign on the sensors and biomech troopers heading right for it. It wasn't a safe area to be alone in, so we flew in to try to find whoever was out there. Hawk was the first to see her. She was running away from the troopers. She had already swam across a polluted river to try to get some distance between her and them, then she made her way over rocky ground, uphill, which would put them at a further disadvantage. It was a good survival strategy since clickers can't move over rocky ground as quickly as they can on a flat surface, but she had been out there for a long time, she was wounded, exhausted, ill, hadn't eaten or found drinkable water and was almost at the end of her rope. The Dread Youth have survival classes but they don't learn how to survive for that long in the wilderness."

Jessica heard the concern and admiration in Jon's voice. Yes, there was a great deal more to the story than Jon was telling. "She had to be strong to survive all that," she said.

"She is," Jon agreed. "Even then, she was still fighting. The troopers got to her just before Hawk did, and she fought them with a single gun. We showed up and finished them off. She didn't know what to make of us, and we had never met a Dread Youth who had broken through the training before. She didn't trust us, we couldn't trust her -- it was difficult."

Jessica could hear something pained in the captain's voice. "But you trust her now."

"Implicitly. She proved herself so many times when she first came here. She was angry at being lied to and finding out that her life had been stolen from her. Everything that she thought was right was wrong, and she really didn't know where she fit in anymore. There were a few occasions early on when we'd go to a town and the people would not want her there since she had been Dread Youth soldier. She volunteered to leave and join another group if any would have her since she didn't think she was helping us in any way."

"_You_ didn't want to let her go," Jessica pointed out. Jessica wondered if Jon noticed how she emphasized the word 'you.'

"No, I couldn't. She had learned to trust us to some extent by then, and earning her trust is not an easy or a fast process. It's like earning a badge of honor. Before, none of us knew how the Dread Youth were taught, but after we met her, we learned that Dread had stripped away her humanity, that he makes his soldiers believe that being human is inferior to being a machine. She was angry and had to work through that. She learned that she was a good person that never wanted to do anything wrong and who had no idea that what she had done was bad." Jon seemed to get lost in his thoughts for a moment.

What the captain said horrified Jessica. She had no idea that Dread had gone to such lengths to build an army. "What do you mean when you say she was stripped of her humanity?"

She heard Jon sigh. "Dread taught that emotions made you weak and weren't of the machine. Humans were chaotic, machines were perfect, precise. Humans should strive to be more like the machine. One day, they would be immortal minds in perfect metalloid bodies." Jon scoffed. "He took so much from her… from them. She didn't know how to laugh or smile or even what music was." Jon's voice uttered the distaste he found in those statements. Then, "She just needed time and a place to learn how to be Jennifer Chase, not Youth Leader Chase."

Jessica saw more in the captain's words than just praise for a team member. "And you gave her that time."

"She's special," Jon's voice took on that proud tone that Jessica had heard before… ah, so there it was. The truth in his voice that was far more apparent than just what the captain was saying.

"All that deception -- when did it all start to turn around for her?" Jessica asked.

"I don't know if there was a particular moment," Jon said, his voice seemingly more conversational. "It's been a learning process for her from the beginning. I knew she was making real progress a few months after she joined the team. We were evacuating a town just as the biomechs attacked, and there was a five-year-old girl named Maggie we thought had been orphaned. Jennifer was the only person she would talk to or let come near her – we didn't know why at the time. The next morning, I saw Jennifer sitting in the pilot's seat of the jumpship, Maggie was sitting in her lap, and Jennifer was showing her how the controls worked. She would smile at Maggie and laugh with her, trying to make her happy. That was the first time I ever saw Jennifer smile or laugh." Jon's voice trailed off. Jessica knew he was remembering the moment.

"Later that day, we found Maggie's parents. Her mother and Jennifer fit the same general description, and I think that's what drew Maggie to her."

"And Jennifer connected with her," Jessica concluded. "Giving attention to Maggie gave Jennifer the chance to set aside her anger and just simply… be," Jessica finished for him.

"Yes. That's it." From the tone in his voice, Jessica wondered if the captain had never considered that fact. "She was able to not think about the war or Dread for a few hours. It was healing, in a way."

Jessica considered this as she continued to eat the meal. "Did Jennifer ever see Maggie again?"

"A few times. Her parents are friends of ours. When we go to the Passages, Maggie runs straight for Jennifer. She thinks the world of her."

"So do you," Jessica stated emphatically. "I can hear it in your voice."

"She's a good friend --" Jon started to say.

"No," Jessica stopped him. "I mean, not just that she's a friend. When you speak of her, your voice changes. It's lighter, more emotional. There's more feeling in your words. You care for her."

Jon didn't answer. Had she said something she shouldn't have?

"Once, long ago, Taggart cared for me. Then he became obsessed by his mechanical vision for the world, and I was a mere step in his ambition. He could no longer care for anything or anyone but his precious Machine. His view became very focused, and that was his downfall. He lost every chance he could have had by not seeing what was before him. And you, you see what's in front of you. You care for Jennifer or perhaps I should say that you love her but you refuse to allow yourself to show it," Jessica knew that she was right given the sudden tension she felt in the room. "But you do not refuse to allow yourself to feel it, do you?"

She sensed that the captain stood and was moving toward the door. "Uhm, I'll fly you back in about an hour. Is there anything else I can get you?"

Jessica smiled. "No, Captain. I think I'm fine."

She heard him take a step and then the door shut behind him, and she knew she was alone. She'd been right. Her world was gone. Her world had been lost along with the ordinary everyday things. Beauty, poetry, knowledge – so much possibly gone forever, but the good captain had no idea what he was missing, and what he was missing was within arm's reach.

~*~*~*~*~

Jon stood outside Jessica's room for a moment and tried to get his thoughts back under control. How had she known? How could she read him so easily? How could she know what he kept so secret?

How could she hear what no one else could see?

Sometimes, what he felt scared him. He couldn't allow himself to do anything to jeopardize the team, and he wouldn't. Too much was at stake. The war, the future…

He had a hard time explaining to himself how having Jennifer in the pilot's seat in the jumpship meant he knew they would come back from a mission. He reveled in the fact that he could talk to her about simple things over a game of chess. Then, when he saw her smile when she saved his life after a biomech trooper had him cornered gave him a warm sense of … something? Her whole face lit up when she smiled, and he noticed that she was smiling a lot more lately.

He couldn't let his feelings out. He couldn't let Jennifer know. He couldn't let anyone know. Maybe one day, when things were different…

One day.

There was time.


	9. Chapter 8 The Room

**Episode 8 – The Room**

Since this was a never-televised episode, we can only guess at what the actual episode would have been like. This particular version is purely my own imaginings.

_The Power Team finds flyers promising relocation to areas with food and shelter that are far away from Dread and his empire. In order to find out what Dread's latest scheme is, Power disguises himself as a peddler and joins a group of villagers who decide to take up the offer. During the trip, Power is recognized and captured. It's a race against time as Jennifer risks everything to rescue him._

~*~*~*~*~

Jon _hurt_.

Muscles he didn't even know existed felt like they were pulled past the breaking point. He wondered if he would be in as much pain if Tank had used him for a sparring partner.

Pain was a customary and established danger for the type of soldier he was and the line of work he was in. In fact, being tortured by unfeeling, unthinking, pre-programmed biomechs was a hazard of the job. He knew it. He accepted it. It could happen to any one of them if they were captured during a mission. It had happened before, it would probably happen again.

But he _hurt, _and not just physically.

Lying in his bunk, he tried to find a more comfortable position. Every angle seemed slightly worse than the one before. Enough was enough. If lying down wasn't helping, then maybe walking around might. Slowly, he stood, grabbing onto anything sturdy to keep from falling over. Step by step, he walked toward the door and out into the hall. The med bay wasn't far. He could walk that short of a distance, right?

He could feel the pull of every muscle and the spasms that coursed through them as they protested every movement he made. Luckily, he didn't have any broken bones, but it hadn't felt that way earlier. At least the physical pain wasn't as bad as it was when he was in that room.

_That room…_

He tried to get his mind off what happened, how close it had been…how final it could have been – and not just for him.

He could still see what transpired, feel her fall against him, smell the weapons' fire, hear her pained voice --- it hurt. He was the captain. It was his job to protect his team. What happened in that room would never have happened if he had been more vigilant and followed procedure. It was his fault.

_Right, Jon_, he thought to himself. _You know she did exactly what she had to do because you were caught. She's done it before, she'll do it again. You're alive because of what she did, and you know she's the only one who could have done it._

He should have kept the team together, not split them up.

It was supposed to have been a scouting mission, that's all.

Once they found the flyers promising food and homes in a 'safe' area far from the biomechs and Dread, they knew that another trap was in operation. Town after town was found deserted by the Resistance, thousands of people missing, and the question was why. Digitization was the obvious answer, but how was Dread doing it? What was the reason? Last time, he'd used a double to impersonate Jon and lure unsuspecting people to Soaron. This time, how was he accomplishing the task? What did Dread have in mind and why was he making such a determined effort to digitize people? It had to be more than his desire to rid the world of humans and only have a mechanized civilization.

The plan had been simple enough. Jon would go in undercover as a peddler trading circuits for anything he could; he'd take a look around and try to find out how the trap worked. Jennifer would be nearby as backup; Hawk, Tank and Scout would be in the jumpship to monitor movement and frequencies.

Simple, right?

Then he was recognized, captured and taken to _the room_.

He'd heard about rooms like that. Jennifer had told him something about them – that was a story she had trouble telling in detail. There were rumors, some Jon hadn't been sure were true even though he believed Dread was capable of pure evil. Now, he knew the rumors to be fact. Those rooms existed. Their fabled function of being used exclusively to 'extract' information from difficult prisoners had been proven to Jon's satisfaction.

Every muscle he had hurt, but it wasn't his aching muscles that hurt him the most.

It was what happened… what could have happened…

~*~*~*~*~

**Hours earlier:**

_He is not going to get any information from me, _Jon said to himself repeatedly_._

"I will only ask one more time, Captain Power. Tell me where your base is," the youth leader demanded.

Only one more time? How many times had he already asked that question? Jon had lost count.

Jon pulled against his restraints. Whatever he'd been drugged with was compelling him to answer, but he had to fight it. How could he buy time? Jennifer had been safely away from the group, monitoring their path. She wouldn't have seen him get captured or know he hadn't made it to the final destination yet. The rest of the team didn't know he was in trouble. None of them knew where he was. He had to stall; he had to give his team time to realize that the mission had failed. Anything… anything… He remembered a book of poems he found in a burned out settlement years earlier. He had put it in the base library to add to their very meager collection. Edgar Allen Poe was one of the listed poets. One of the poems came to mind.

"Where is your base, Captain?"

"Base?" he asked, his voice slurring slightly.

"Yes, Captain. Your base. What is its location?" the youth leader impatiently asked again.

He felt compelled to answer, but he still had enough control over his faculties to not tell the truth. "Over… the mountains of… the moon," Jon said, his words rasping with pain. "Down the valley of the shadow." Oh, his ribs hurt. He was beginning to think the clickers had broken a few.

"Where is this valley?" the youth leader demanded. "Which mountain range?"

Jon almost laughed, but his head hurt too much to allow himself such a liberty. As much as he hated the fact that so much was withheld from the Dread Youth, it was so easy to mislead them by using the exact things that Dread kept from them. Poetic locations were definitely a good way to make them not find the base and buy time.

Again, he felt like he was being forced to answer. "You have to ride… a long way…" Jon finally answered. "It's far from here." That was the truth. The base was several hours away by jumpship.

The youth leader grabbed Jon's hair and yanked his head back. "How far?"

Jon smiled, sort of. He remembered another favorite poem. "It's far, far away and way, way afar, it's over the moon and the sea." Jon was curious what the youth leader would make of that statement.

"Your base is outside of this continent? What are the map coordinates?"

Outside the continent? Misleading this youth leader was almost too easy, but Jon was losing his tenuous hold on consciousness. He might not be able to hold his tongue if he began to pass out. He had to concentrate. He had to focus… the darkness was beginning to beckon… he took a deep breath, hoping that it would revive him a little.

"Youth Leader!" a familiar voice cut through the haze and woke him up. He looked toward the door, and there was Jennifer -- dressed in an overunit uniform? How? He almost didn't recognize her with her hair pulled back in the severe style the female soldiers wore, and the look in her eyes -- he'd never seen Jennifer have _that_ look before. It was the soulless look of a Dread soldier, devoid of emotion and completely devoted to their mechanized duty. She even carried an overunit's pack. The disguise was perfect save one thing – she wasn't wearing a gun, not even her own. It would have given her away immediately since it wasn't a regulation Dread Youth issued weapon. "Report."

The youth leader released Jon and immediately stood at attention. "Overunit, I was interrogating the prisoner –"

"Without success," she said as she marched toward them. "Your name."

"Youth Leader Benjamin Royer, Overunit."

"What method of information extraction are you using?"

The youth leader never flinched. "As ordered, I injected the prisoner with a truth compulsion drug. It has not taken full effect yet, Overunit. He has not given any direct answers. I cannot inject another dose yet without doing severe damage, and I have orders to keep him alive."

Jennifer walked in front of Jon, looked him in the eyes. Jon could detect no hint of recognition in them. "Your resources here are limited, Youth Leader Royer. You will not be able to retrieve information from him in this location. This prisoner is to be transferred to Volcania. I am to take custody and transport him."

"With respect, Overunit, Lord Dread himself ordered me to find out where their base is located before he arrives with more troops. He said nothing about transporting the prisoner."

"And do you share Lord Dread's confidences?" Jennifer asked condescendingly. She had the act down, that much was certain. Jon noted the arrogant stare in her eye when she looked back at the youth leader. She would have been a formidable overunit if she had stayed with the Dread Youth. Once again, he was glad she was on their side.

"I would never claim such liberties," Royer protested. "I am merely stating that Lord Dread will be here very soon and that I have not been made aware of the change in orders."

"You have been made aware of them now. I have been ordered to take the prisoner to the fortress. Release him."

The biomechs moved to follow the _overunit's_ orders as another Dread trooper entered the room. Jon saw him draw his weapon from its holster.

"Jennifer Chase," the newly arrived overunit stood in the center of the room with his weapon trained directly on Jennifer's back. "I'm certain Lord Dread will wish to speak with you as well."

Jennifer turned, looked directly at the newcomer and said without hesitation. "Zachary Williams," Jennifer nodded in greeting. "I believe the last time we met was when I earned my Youth Leader ranking and you didn't. You were found to have low performance ratings, I believe, and a complete failure to apply basic knowledge to standardized testing."

Williams almost smiled. An overunit? Smiling? There was something very wrong going on in the room. Jon noticed that Royer and the biomechs hadn't moved. Royer was staring at the two 'overunits,' a look of surprise on his face. Had he never seen two overunits disagree on anything? The biomechs seemed just as confused as Royer.

Williams took a step closer. "Yet I have proven my loyalty to the Dread Empire. You –"

"Left," Jennifer said with, no fear in her voice although she was unarmed and looking directly down the barrel of a gun. "When I found out that Dread had lied to us about everything, I refused to be a traitor to the human race any longer."

"Those words are treason."

Jon saw Jennifer square her shoulders and stand straighter. This was righteous indignation wielded at its most truthful. "Why? Because Dread said so?"

Jon recognized this tactic. He'd heard Jennifer use it before with other soldiers that had recognized her. All she had to do was plant one small kernel of doubt, some small chink in that impenetrable belief system that was believed to be unbreakable…

Williams wasn't one to allow chinks to form or kernels to collect. "We owe our loyalty to Dread," Williams told her emphatically. "He would not betray us.

Jennifer just nodded her head. Jon knew that look on her face. That was the pure stubborn streak that was so much a part of her character. "Right. He wouldn't betray us. After all, the world is imperfect. We will make it perfect. Dread is our eyes. We are his fists. With our blood and our trust, he shall mold a new tomorrow. I know the litanies as well as you do, Zack. I can quote them backwards if I need to. Open your eyes. Look at his _new tomorrow_. It's utter destruction. He's destroyed people's lives. He demolished entire cities. He has taken everything that was good in this world and leveled it. He ripped us from our homes and families, took away our childhoods. He turned us into unemotional, brainwashed shells willing to die for this mechanical vision of his. He sacrificed the entire world for his own madness."

Jon watched as Williams blatantly ignore what Jennifer was saying. He recognized the signs coming from Jennifer that she knew she might as well be talking to a wall and that nothing she said would make any difference. That wouldn't stop her. Maybe she was trying to buy time as well.

No, she wasn't, Jon realized. She was trying to get Williams angry. She was baiting him.

"The world is merely in a state of transition," Williams argued. "The machine world will rise from the ashes of the old; we will be immortal minds in perfect metalloid bodies –"

"How long is it going to take before you realize Dread is lying?" she challenged him. "How long until your own intelligence overcomes the propaganda? That no one's mind gets transferred into _perfect_ metalloid bodies? Dread wants power and control, and he uses the soldiers and the clickers to get it. It's nothing but a pack of lies."

Without warning, he pulled his gun hand back and slammed it down toward Jennifer who blocked the blow cleanly with an upraised arm. She grabbed his wrist and twisted, yanking the weapon from him and flipping him onto his back on the floor. Looking at it through a blurring vision, Jon was impressed. He knew she could fight, he'd seen how well she could fight, but that was a very unexpected move. Where had she learned it?

"You never could best me hand-to-hand," she muttered. "I was top of the class, remember?"

Williams brought his foot up, kicking Jennifer in the side, forcing her to lose her grip on his wrist. She regrouped, grabbing his ankle and twisting it.

"Royer!" the overunit called for help.

The youth leader shook off his surprise at the behavior of his 'superiors' and rushed the combatants. Jennifer cleanly kicked him, doubling him over. He fell and didn't move. "You wait your turn. I'm dealing with him right now."

But the momentary diversion was all Williams needed. He used his other foot to kick Jennifer back, slamming her into Jon. He jumped up, turned and slammed his fist into the side of her jaw, knocking her into the wall and causing her to drop the weapon.

Jon tried to get his hands loose, but the chains held tight. There was no escaping. "Pilot!" he called.

But it was what happened next that surprised Jon.

Jennifer stood up.

She was standing after being slammed into a brick wall. How could she do that after that kind of punishment?

"Is that the best you can do?" she taunted Williams. Jon saw her flex her fingers, curling them into fists. Bridled, controlled anger – Williams had no idea what he was up against. Even Jon wasn't certain what the overunit was up against, but this was a side of Jennifer Chase he'd never seen in action before. "Second year cadets can hit harder than that," she said.

Williams rushed her – Jennifer grabbed his arm and shoved him head first into the wall. He made a rather satisfying _thunk_ sound when he hit the ground, unconscious. Immediately, she picked up his weapon again and fired at the biomechs, hitting their sensors and knocking them to the ground. Then she grabbed the keys to the chains and almost limped over to Jon. He could tell she was hurting.

"You've got to get out of here," Jon whispered. "More are coming."

"I know. We've got a plan," she whispered back, the gleam in her eye showing him that there was mischief afoot. The gleam was being slowly hidden by the gradual swelling from Williams' pummeling.

"Do you ever obey orders?" he asked, exasperated at his slurring voice.

"Sure I do," she said as she unlocked the chains on his wrists, "when they make sense." She smiled at him, that mischievous smile that meant he wasn't going to win this round of the argument. She had the upper hand, and she knew it. "Right now, Hawk's in charge since you're slightly incapacitated."

"I could argue that," he answered as the chains fell away and he fell to the floor.

Jennifer reached into the pack and brought out a small pouch. She opened it and picked out a syringe. She quickly injected the clear liquid into his arm. "This will help get you on your feet and clear the drug out of your system a little, but it has to wear off on its own. That's going to take a while." She pulled one of his arms over her shoulders and helped him to stand. Jon wondered where such strength came from especially when he knew she was in pain. Once again, he realized that not only were appearances deceiving when it came to her, there was a lot more to Jennifer Chase than he knew. "And you can argue the point later. The others are putting the digitizer out of commission."

Digitizer? "It's not Soaron?" he asked as they began to walk to the door.

"No. It's a mobile device about twice the size of a skybike that can digitize everyone in an entire room. Scout wants to see how big a bang he can make with it."

That meant explosives -- that meant they all had to get out of there -- that meant Jennifer was on a schedule. No wonder she wouldn't leave when he ordered her to.

"What about the other townspeople?"

"They're safe," she told him. "We cleared them out before the others started setting the explosives."

They moved out the door into the hallway when Hawk, Tank and Scout charged around the corner.

"Mind if we join the party?" Scout asked. He glanced at Jennifer. "What happened to you?"

"Ran into an old acquaintance," she told them.

One explosion rocked the corridor, knocking them to the floor.

"That wasn't mine," Scout said as he got back on his feet. "Must be clickers."

"They're here sooner than we thought," Hawk grumbled as he hauled Jon off Jennifer and started moving down the corridor. "Our charges will go off any second. Let's get out of here!"

All five ran: Hawk and Jon in the rear, Tank taking point, Scout running beside Jennifer, giving her some cover since her suit was deactivated.

"Halt!" Royer's voice called out from behind them.

In a still somewhat drug induced haze, Jon heard the shot before seeing the flash, heard Jennifer's surprised yell of pain when the blast hit her leg. He looked back and saw Jennifer fall as Royer took aim again. Tank whirled and fired at the ceiling above the soldier and collapsed it on top of him. Scout grabbed Jennifer, hoisted her up and they all ran. They couldn't stop, couldn't take care of the wounded. They had to escape. The timers were counting down…

3…

2…

1…

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk walked out of the med bay and right into Jon.

"What are you doing out of your bunk?" Hawk demanded to know. "You can barely stand."

"I can stand well enough. How's Jennifer doing?"

Hawk grabbed Jon's arm and helped him remain upright. "She's doing better than you. The wound wasn't too deep, but it was painful and she lost a lot of blood. She's a little weak but sleeping which is what you should be doing."

"She's going to be all right?"

"Sore shoulder, hurt leg, swollen eye, aching jaw, bruised ribs, slight concussion, bit of a limp, and there's no way she'll be able to pilot the jumpship for a few weeks –"

"She won't like that," Jon told him.

"She didn't like it when I told her. You know how she is when she's on downtime. She'll probably be up and moving before she should. She can't stand it when she's not allowed to do anything."

Jon leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. When did it become so difficult to walk from his quarters to the med bay? "What about her power suit?"

"The blast shot out an activator, but it's repairable. You, however, are not lifting a finger to fix her suit until you're better. The only reason you're not sacked out in the med bay beside her is because you're a worse patient than she is, and I don't want to have to deal with the two of you at the same time," Hawk teased.

Jon took a deep breath and tried to get the pain under control. "She pretended to be an overunit," Jon murmured. "She even had a uniform."

"It was a good idea. When she radioed us and told us you'd been captured and she was going after you, I tried to get her to wait, but you know her. She knew we didn't have the time, and she was right. More troopers were moving into the area and Dread was coming, too. She came up with a workable plan faster than I could."

Jon thought for a moment. It wasn't easy when his head felt like someone was drumming on his skull. Wait… what had Hawk said? "It wasn't your idea?"

"Mine?" Hawk seemed confused. "I would never think of asking her to put on one of those uniforms. After all she's done to get away from the Dread Youth, I can't imagine what she saw down there to convince herself that masquerading as one was a good idea."

What would have prompted Jennifer to risk her life by pretending to be an overunit?

_The room_…

She knew about _the room_. She knew what was happening and what was going to happen to him. She had put on that uniform to save him.

_Him_. Jon didn't let the thought go any further. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

"She said that you were the one in charge since I was incapacitated," Jon told him.

Hawk shook his head. "Technically, she would be right, but it was all her idea, and it worked. She created the distraction that got us inside to help free the rest of the villagers and then went to get you. She told me that she'd have to deal with the youth leader that led the group away. I don't think she was counting on that overunit, let alone one that knew her. All we had to do was plant the charges and then come join the two of you. Simple but effective."

Effective? Very. Simple? Nothing was simple when it came to Jennifer Chase. Jon was learning that fact more and more each day. In some ways, she was still a bit of a mystery, one that he wanted to learn more about.

"She had the act down perfect," he told Hawk. "We've all seen her stand in the way of Dread's soldiers to protect us, but I've never seen her behave like one of them before. Down there, she scared Royer and stood toe-to-toe with Williams without any hesitation. And you know how she told us once that she was top of her class in hand-to-hand combat? I got to see her fight firsthand. From what I saw, she tried not to seriously hurt Williams even though she took hits that would have put you and me on the ground. I think she let him hit her to set him up for that final blow," he told Hawk. "She got him so angry with her, he made mistakes."

"I know. We've all wondered how she does that ourselves," Hawk agreed. "There have been several times she's come away from a fight with only a few bruises instead of broken bones. She's one tough fighter."

Jon looked into the med bay and saw Jennifer sleeping in one of the beds. "You're sure she's all right?"

Hawk gave Jon a gentle shove into the room. "Go see for yourself. You've got five minutes, and then you go back to your room and get some rest or sack out in one of the other beds here. I don't like us being two soldiers down, not with Dread pulling some of his stunts."

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk watched as Jon limped slowly into the med bay. He was surprised it had taken Jon that long to come check on Jennifer. Before, he would have understood the need to maintain a professional distance since Jon was the leader of the team, but knowing what he knew now, what Vi had opened his eyes to, Jon was several hours behind schedule.

Slowly, Hawk walked back into the control room to find two more worried teammates waiting for him.

"Well?" Tank asked.

"Well, Jon's moving around. I met him just as I was leaving the med bay. Jennifer's still out of it. That girl took a beating and was still arguing with me about giving her something for the pain."

Scout leaned against the computer console, obvious relief showing on his face. "That's nothing new. She still has trouble admitting when she's hurting, just not as much she used to. Is she going to be all right?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine, but it'll take a couple of weeks. Serious bruising, that shot in the leg -- it all adds up to mean she'll have us doing maintenance on her ship while she supervises as soon as she's up and around."

"I don't get it. How could she walk away from a beating like that?" Scout asked. "The captain said the overunit hit her pretty hard and slammed her into a wall."

"She's done something like that before," Tank told them. "Remember that recon we did in Sector 7 and we met that overunit who knew her? He sent in a cadet about my size to fight her?"

Scout nodded. "Right. I set off some explosions as a diversion, part of the wall fell on her and she walked away with only a limp. I thought it was just luck. Maybe it's something more. I mean, she threw that overunit into the wall, and it knocked him out."

"Dread Youth are trained to be tough," Hawk told them. "We've always known that. They know how to fight, so I guess they know how to take a fall as well. Looks like Jennifer was better at it this time."

Tank and Scout went back to work, but Hawk couldn't help but wonder at what else happened during the mission. From what Jon had told them, it was as if Jennifer was determined to get Williams angry, maybe even get him to attack her, but why? He had a weapon trained on her…

Jon was in the room, shackled by chains, defenseless.

Hawk felt like slapping his head. Jennifer was protecting Jon like she always protected them when an overunit or youth leader showed up. She made herself the target to protect Jon and give the rest of them a chance to escape.

There was one thing Hawk was certain of -- Jennifer would risk her life for any of them. She'd done it before, she'd do it again, but to actively try to get an overunit angry instead of trying to get through to him by a reasoned appeal… it was because it was Jon in there and his life was in danger. She had to become the sole focus of the overunit's anger.

She was willing to go to extremes if it meant protecting Jon.

Hawk wondered – was Jennifer aware that her feelings for Jon were showing? Was she aware that she had feelings for Jon?

More importantly, was she aware that Jon had feelings for her?

~*~*~*~*~

Jennifer realized at once that she was still in the med bay.

Half-asleep, she recognized the feel of the too-thin mattress and the distinct smell associated with medical centers. She also felt the lingering effects of the painkiller Hawk had injected into her. Thinking back, it was probably a good idea to have been given a painkiller because she _hurt_. Getting slammed into a wall, backhanded, kicked, shot – that would even make Tank sore.

Her off-the-cuff plan of forcing Williams into a fight worked, but maybe angering him that much wasn't such a great idea after all.

She finally opened her eyes… yeah, the med bay. There were the dim lights and the barren walls that epitomized the unit.

She felt a hand rest on her arm. "Hi there," Jon's voice came from somewhere in the room. She slowly turned her head – even her neck muscles were sore – and saw him sitting uncomfortably in a chair.

"Hi," she answered. "I guess we both got stuck in here?"

"Matt's orders, and like you said, when I'm incapacitated, he's in charge," Jon joked. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," she told him as a muscle spasm shot through her arm. She decided she wasn't going to move. Moving hurt, so lying still seemed to be a good idea. "How about you?"

"The same, and that truth drug they gave me finally wore off."

That was another reason Jennifer knew they didn't have time to waste. The truth drug was powerful. There was no way Jon could have held out forever against it, especially if Royer were to give him a second or third dose. "Good thing too," she told him. "There's no telling what you might have said if anyone asked you any questions."

Jon smiled and nodded his head. "I was a little worried for a while. Matt could have asked some embarrassing questions from when I was a kid, and there were a few things Mitch and I did that we wouldn't have wanted Matt to know about."

Jennifer could only smile, not laugh. "I heard part of what you told him. You were quoting lines from poems?"

Jon smiled. "Eldorado by Edgar Allen Poe and Nobody Knows It But Me by Patrick O'Leary. They're in one of the books in our library."

"Edgar Allen Poe…" Jennifer tried to think of the name. It sounded familiar. She could almost hear Mentor's voice saying something about being shut up by the sea… "Isn't he the one who wrote Annabel Lee?"

"Yes, that's him."

Jennifer closed her eyes for a moment. Even her head hurt.

"Headache?" Jon asked.

"Little one," she hoped she sounded more convincing to his ears than to hers. It really wasn't a 'little' headache, but there wasn't anything she could do about the pain but endure it.

"I was thinking that maybe… uh… maybe we need to talk about what happened in that room," Jon's voice was low but not angry.

Jennifer looked at him. What had happened that would need talking about? She thought back… no, nothing obvious came to mind. "Okay."

"It was a big risk you took back there."

"I should have considered that an overunit would be assigned there somewhere, but I never saw him until he walked in. Anyway, I didn't have time to worry about that."

Jon sat quietly for a moment. Then, "It's not just that," he told her. "You've always protected us from the Youth leadership when we fight them. You've let yourself become the target so everyone else could escape. I used to think I knew why you did it, but I didn't. Not until now."

What had he figured out? "Now?"

"The first time I ever saw you go up against a youth leader yourself, I thought it might have been guilt that motivated you, but what I saw in that room – I was wrong. It's not guilt. You understand them."

"I used to be one, remember?" she reminded him. "I know you and the others have tried to understand that world, but unless you were raised in it, you really can't know. Dread soldiers aren't like other soldiers. We were all taught to ignore pain, ignore fear, think of ourselves as inferior to the machines… they don't fight the same as everyone else, and you can't fight them the way you would anyone else. You have to take the fight to their level, and part of that is a direct challenge which is something they're not accustomed to."

Had that thought never occurred to Jon? "No one ever challenges an overunit," he declared. "Youth leaders either. When you stand up to them –"

"I can play the same game they do, only I play it against them and better than they can," Jennifer smiled. "It's not guilt. It's the fact it's something I can do because I know how the Dread Youth think."

Jon took a tighter hold of her hand. "I would never ask you to impersonate an overunit. I just want you to know that."

That's what was bothering him, Jennifer realized. That was the crux of the problem. None of them would have ever asked her to do anything like that. Not a single one of her teammates would suggest such a thing, not after everything she had done to distance herself from her Dread Youth past. She squeezed his hand. "I know."

She knew, Jon realized. Maybe he had never said that out loud before, but she was perceptive. That was something that he always admired about her. There were some things that didn't need to be said because they just _knew_. "I also know you came in after me because you knew I was drugged and more troops were coming and I was in one of the special interrogation rooms."

He noticed how quiet she became. Those rooms were not topics of discussion, not for her. There was something in her past that she didn't want to talk about. The rooms had been mentioned before, but that was all. He didn't want to bring up bad memories. "You don't have to talk about it," he said.

She was quiet for a while, then, "I didn't know if I could do it," she told him. It's been so many years since I even wore the uniform, I wasn't sure I could convince that youth leader that I was a Dread soldier."

Jon smiled as he leaned over to ease some of the pressure on his back. "You did. If Williams hadn't walked in, I think you would have got away with it. Just out of curiosity, where did you get the uniform?" he asked her.

She laughed, but she grabbed her side when the slight movement sent painful waves through her. "I need to remember not to laugh," she whispered. "After I saw the youth leader separate you from the group, I trailed you. I passed by a supply room. Given how much was in there, I think there were various soldiers working that site. There was maybe enough stock for two weeks for six people. I took a few youth leader and overunit uniforms. You never know, I might need to impersonate one again. Even if I hadn't burned my old uniform years ago, it was torn up pretty badly." That it was. By the time the team had found her, she had been out in the wilderness for weeks. Dread Youth uniforms weren't built for that kind of punishment or continual fighting with troopers. "Would you believe this is the first time since I escaped that I wished I had one? I still hate the sight of them though."

"They can be a bit scary, but, uh…" Jon seemed to have trouble saying whatever it was he was trying to say, "To tell the truth, I almost didn't recognize you, but I was glad when you came through that door, uniform and all." It had been a glance into her past, into that world where she had once walked that he didn't really understand. There was a rigid sense of order, a restrictive feel to her personality when she stepped into that room. No emotion in her eyes, utter obedience to Dread and his machines, her hair pinned back in the severe style the female cadets wore, high-buttoned shirt and gleaming boots – it was the ultimate appearance of a true Dread soldier. The Jennifer Chase he knew and cared about was the exact opposite of that. She was warm, kind and courageous. It was a rather jarring revelation to think that the person he knew might never have existed. Instead, she could have been one of the many rank-and-file overunits in Dread's army had she not realized the truth, and Jon would have never known her or felt the way he did about her.

No, truthfully, he hadn't been expected to see her either masquerading as an overunit or in the _uniform,_ but he had been glad to see _her_. She just had to wear the uniform to walk in that room.

"If you hadn't shown up when you did, well, I don't know how much longer I could have held out."

"As long as you had to," she said without reservation. "You know I wouldn't leave you there… I mean, we wouldn't have left you there. You wouldn't have given up or given in."

She had more faith in him than he had in himself, and _she_ wouldn't have left him there...

She planned the villagers' rescue, the destruction of the digitizer, his rescue and their escape. She risked her life to walk into a crowd of biomechs alone and unarmed to get to him and was willing to masquerade as something she truly hated to get him out of there. There was a deep selflessness in the woman whose hand he held, a rare courage that he didn't see very often. In fact, there always seemed to be more depths to Jennifer than Jon had ever thought possible. Every new revelation made him want to know more.

"There's one thing I would like to know though," he said, trying to think of exactly how to ask his next question.

"What's that?"

"That move you used against Williams when you flipped him -- how did you do that?"


	10. Chapter 9 The Ferryman

**Episode 9 – The Ferryman**

_The team learns that Dread is commencing with Project New Order. The first step, Project Charon, is designed to create hundreds of new biodreads with human minds, and Jon is determined to stop Dread no matter what the cost._

~*~*~*~*~

There was always a price to pay.

Jon didn't know who levied the price. Whether it was fate, karma, the universe, dumb luck, chance, intelligent being -- no one got something for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Even in mythology, no one got to the underworld unless they paid Charon a coin to ferry them across the River Styx.

The problem was that sometimes, the price to be paid was far greater than anyone ever imagined or was willing to pay.

Today, Charon had collected a lot of coins. Even the team had almost paid the ultimate price. If it meant stopping Dread, any one of them would have all gladly given their lives by crashing into Volcania. Hawk once called it the rational transaction – one life for thousands. In this case, it would have been five lives given willingly for tens of thousands.

Even so, a single biodread was born despite all they did to stop the project.

When Hawk said that they had lost the engines and was laying in a course for Volcania, Jon could imagine what was happening on the jumpship. From his relative safety in the bi-plane, he envisioned Hawk frantically keeping the ship on an even keel. He could see Jennifer working feverishly, fighting the odds to get the afterburners reconnected and reconfigured to fly them out with only a minute until impact. He could hear Scout counting off the seconds, keeping track of their altitude and speed. He could see Tank working support for everyone, his presence always steady and calm.

Then there was Jon, flying cover in the bi-plane, unable to do more than hope that at the end of that minute, he and his friends wouldn't be lying dead and broken at the bottom of a destroyed fortress. Jennifer… his guts twisted up when he thought of her on that ship, crashing into Volcania. He'd go with her – with all of them. He'd run cover all the way if that happened. He had forced the thought out of his mind. He had to concentrate on flying and keeping up with the jumpship.

Once again, they all escaped but the jumpship was the one that was damaged. With the engines burned out, the jumpship limped home with only the afterburners operating. It had been a harrowing, exhausting flight. The afterburners hadn't been built for sustained flight. The jumpship wasn't designed to withstand that kind of prolonged but sporadic velocity.

"_Pilot?" Jon called over the radio."Status?"_

_A moment passed before Hawk answered. "She's busy trying to keep us in the air. Do not link back up with us, Jonathan. It's everything Jennifer can do to keep this bird flying. She doesn't need the added weight. Afterburners are erratic -- the ship's fighting her!"_

"_What can I do?"_

_Tank's voice came over the radio. "Keep an eye out for Soaron. The sensors are burned out as well."_

"_Stupid biobird," Jennifer's grumble brought a smile to Jon's face. "It damaged my ship again! I just fixed the last hole he shot in the hull!"_

"_We'll help with the repairs," Scout told her. "Looks like we'll be grounded for a while."_

_The ship lurched, the afterburners blasted out another burst of flames. The ship started to go down, then the nose jerked up._

_Jon listened intently. He could hear Jennifer and Matt talking over the roar of the engines._

_Jennifer's voice sounded strained, as if she were lifting a great weight. "We may have to sacrifice altitude for speed if this keeps up."_

"_What'll happen if we slow down?"_

"_We'll crash. We have to maintain a certain speed or the afterburners will overheat. That'll burn a hole right through to the turbines and when they try to generate more power so we can get back up to speed, they'll explode. The ship's not equipped to take that kind of damage and keep flying. If that happens, we're going down no matter what."_

"_Can you keep the speed up?"_

"_Up? Maybe. Constant? No. We may have to go into a dive to regain speed. If that happens, you guys are going to have to bail out on the sky bikes to lighten the load. If the turbines burn out, I may have to bring her down in a forced landing."_

_Bail out? Forced landing? Alone? That ship wasn't designed for survivable forced landings on no engines. The best they could do was controlled crashes and that required two pilots at the helm. Jon did not like that idea at all. It meant that Jennifer was willing to go down with her ship while saving everyone else. No ship was worth her life… their lives. _

"_Hawk? What's going on?"_

_There was a long silence, and every horrific scenario flashed through his mind. He heard Jennifer almost groan in protest as the ship lurched and pitched. "Come on, come on, you can do this," he heard her say to the ship. "Just catch the updraft…" _

_The ship leveled out, its speed becoming steadier. He could almost see Jennifer pat the console as he heard her say, "Good girl."_

_Finally, Hawk's voice, stressed from the effort he was expending to help Jennifer keep the ship in the air, answered. "It's looking better, Jon. We'll make it. It's just going to be a long bumpy ride home."_

He could hear the tension in their voices and all he could do was watch helplessly. The ship didn't fight Jennifer when she was at the controls. How many times had Jon seen the ship fly longer and faster, sometimes as if it were working with Jennifer to save their lives? The jumpship didn't have a brain, it wasn't a living creature, but there were times when Jon could have sworn that it flew twice as well for Jennifer – maybe out of gratitude because she loved that ship and took care of it. The ship wouldn't let them crash, not with Jennifer flying it.

It. The jumpship was sometimes just that to him – an "it." Other times, the jumpship was a "she." The more time passed, the more Jon could see a bit of a personality to the ship. Hawk would laugh, say that they were all beginning to treat the ship like people had treated their automobiles decades earlier, but what was the harm? They knew the jumpship wasn't alive.

He made a mental note not to say that around Jennifer when she was amusing Hawk by talking to the ship.

Living machines. Cyborgs. Biodreads. Machines weren't just machines anymore. Some were like the jumpship and Mentor, machines they would risk a lot to protect and sustain. Others were the opposite. They weren't there to help humans make their lives easier. They now existed to dominate and exterminate human life.

That brought up more questions. When a human mind transferred into a metalloid body, did that change the person's outlook on humans? Did the person retain any of their humanity or did they become mere metal entities, shadows of their former selves? Dread had started the transfers with Project Charon. The biodread was proof of that. As far as they knew, Soaron was only a machine with a mechanized processor. This new one was something else entirely. This biodread had a human mind.

Someone had given up their humanity to become a biodread.

How could anyone do that willingly?

Jennifer had taught them some of the litanies and speeches that the Dread Youth learned. When youth leaders graduated to overunits, a special ceremony was held for the graduates. Dread's speech was the same each time. Rousing words, animated speech, Dread would galvanize the new overunits to a frenzied enthusiasm.

Jon could almost hear Dread speaking the words.

_"The old world dies, and with it the old ways. _

The old world wasn't just 'dying.' It was being slowly choked and killed by a mechanical monster. At times, it felt like the world was still on life support, no matter how many people were trying to save it.

_We will re-make it as it should be - must be! _

Should be? Must be? There wasn't anything wrong with the old world. Nature took care of itself, paying people no mind yet providing them with life-giving oxygen and clean water to drink. She made the green fields to run in and nighttime skies full of stars to gaze at. Dread wasn't making the world into what it should be or must be. He was ripping out its heart and changing it into his warped view of mechanical perfection. No humans, no life, no love, no heart, no soul. The world would just be the unthinking precision of gears, cogs, programs and sub-routines.

_Immortal, mechanized...human minds in gleaming, undying metalloid bodies. _

Why would anyone want to be encased in a metalloid body? Even if it meant living forever, what was immortality without the things and people you loved there with you? Metalloid bodies didn't ever take deep breaths of clean, mountain air. They never drank clear, sparkling spring water. They never ate… anything. Simple pleasures would never be known again.

Dread must not have learned the old saying that the only problem with being immortal is that you have to live forever. Everything that you wanted to be immortal for would change or die out. Then again, maybe that _was_ something Dread had heard. He wanted to change the world so nothing would change ever again, nothing would die out, and all the things he wanted to be immortal for would be around forever.

_Give me your blood, your trust, your minds, and we shall build a new tomorrow! A new future! A NEW ORDER!"_

The only future Jon was interested in was the one that didn't have a Lord Dread in it. Yet, how could anyone fight the litanies' messages? They were ingrained in every Dread Youth even before they understood the meanings of the words. Trust him, be willing to die for him, let him put your mind in a tin can -- Dread knew how to weave a sentence. He joined himself to his troops and them to him. What was that one litany Jennifer had told them? Something about Dread being their eyes and their being his fists? He couldn't remember the exact wording, but a lot of the sayings all meandered in the same direction – that they were all on the same path, they all had the same dream, they all had to work together to remake the world into the way it should be. Dread never did tell the Dread Youth the way the world had used to be with the green grass and blue skies and starry nights. If the Dread Youth ever had the opportunity to see the world in its natural glory, what would they think then? Would they follow a man's dream of destroying all that was good in the world?

That was an ages-old question, wasn't it?

The construct of the power-hungry madman intent on bending the world to his own warped image repeated throughout history. They would run roughshod over the land, killing the innocents in their wake, and there would be those who followed them regardless of the truth.

The truth…

Project New Order was all about Dread's vision for the future – mechanizing as many minds as he could, digitizing everyone opposed to him, turning the world into a metal bastardization of what it once was. It was all about his worldview, and humans had no place in it. Jon couldn't imagine a self-loathing that deep or that profound. Yet Taggart had become Lord Dread because of his own perceived inadequacies. He took that belief, made it physical, turned it into a religion and brainwashed his soldiers from the cradle.

Now, a sizeable portion of that army was decimated, their elevation to a perceived mechanical superiority stopped by a mere power interruption. Only one biodread was 'born,' but it could go where Soaron couldn't. It was land based. Dread now truly had eyes in the air and on the land.

If the jumpship had crashed into Volcania, it could have set off an explosion that would have ended a lot of things – biodreads, Dread's plans, the fortress, the war, their lives…

If it had crashed on the flight home, Jon would have lost Jennifer…

"_Undying_ metalloid bodies," he heard Jennifer's voice echo from the landing bay. Jon remembered he had been sent on a rather important mission to get wire and insulated tubing to help repair the engines. Items in hand, he hurried back to hear more of the conversation.

"I just don't get it," Scout said as he helped Jennifer remove the outer plating of one of the engines. "I mean, even if you'd been told that all your life, wouldn't some of the Dread Youth not want to be machines?"

"Sure, there were a few, but if they ever said anything against it, they'd disappear." She picked up a screwdriver and began to loosen the inner clamps. "You learn very early not to argue or disagree with any of the litanies. That was the way life was, and no one could say a word against it."

Jon placed the wire and tubing on the table in easy reach. He quickly joined Hawk as Tank lowered the second engine onto another worktable. Two engines -- both overheated and damaged -- it was definitely a job for all five of them. Yet they were all working under the very over-protective eye of the ship's pilot. It was her ship. No one even sneezed around it without her knowing so if anyone helped with the repairs, they knew that the one person they had to pass muster with was scrutinizing their work.

"They'd disappear?" Jon asked.

"One day, they'd be in the classes; the next day, they wouldn't," she told them. "Rumors kept the rest of us on our best behavior."

Hawk looked into the engine, not liking what he was seeing. "Or?"

Jennifer glanced at him. "Or we wouldn't get the chance to be immortal minds in undying metalloid bodies."

Scout almost shuddered. "So this new biodread we saw -- there's an actual human mind in there?"

"More than one, most likely," Jennifer told him. "A biodread of that size requires a lot of processing power that can only be found in multiple human minds. The biodread itself would have its own pre-programmed personality and command structure to follow, but it would use the human minds to process data. You can contrast that with a biomech trooper that would only need one mind in order to function properly. These biodreads would be something far more dangerous and powerful if more had been built."

All four men stopped working and listened. They hadn't considered that particular reality of actually placing a human mind in a metalloid body.

"Clickers?" Hawk asked. "There's a human mind inside them?"

Jennifer nodded her head. "Some of them. Dread started experimental transfers into clickers a few years ago. There were a lot of casualties at first because they couldn't get the transfer process to work correctly."

Casualties? That was an odd word to use when talking about clickers and human mind transfers. Again, Jon learned a little more about Jennifer's view of the world when she was younger. Multiple meanings of words took on a new definition. "Is that what Dread teaches when he talks about putting a mind in a metalloid body?"

"It's what he teaches, but I don't think anyone thought he meant… that. I don't think a Dread Youth ever thought that they would no longer be themselves once they transferred."

Tank heard something in her voice, something that quantified the statement. "But you found out that a person loses himself?"

Jennifer stopped working. Staring into the engine, she said, "I had just finished up an assignment with Air Recon, and there was a soldier named Colville who had just earned her youth leader ranking. We were both re-assigned that evening to a newly formed unit. We met on the transport taking us to our new duty stations and compared work histories. The next day, the technicians called for help with an experimental transfer, and she volunteered. I wasn't supposed to be at the lab, but I was curious and followed. I passed by interrogation rooms where people were being questioned. There was one man… anyway, I reached the lab and found a place to hide and watch. When it was over, the personality inside the trooper wasn't the person I'd met. There was only this robot with a greater processing capacity standing there. The technicians and medics reported to their superiors and lied to them. They said that the transfer hadn't been successful, but I was there. I saw them when the transfer took place, and they were thrilled at how well it worked. They kept talking about how they needed more. Then they contacted Dread and told him of their success and that they needed the rest of the members of the advance squad and cleansing unit to transfer. Dread said that they'd just received information and needed the platoon for a couple of assignments but they could have any survivors afterwards. I overheard one of them saying that they wanted to have some sort of protective military force in place before they moved the transfers into a full-scale operation. I never found out exactly what the operation was though. Now, I'm wondering if it's Project New Order."

"When did that happen?" Tank asked her.

"Right before Sand Town."

That one sentence told them more than anything else could. The truth had hit her twice in a very short amount of time. Lies permeated the Dread Youth. Curiosity had guided her to find out what would happen to the acquaintance, but reality showed her the truth.

In a quick change of subject, her voice sounding somewhat tense, she said, "The entire fuel cell's going to have to be rebuilt on this engine. The shut off valve is practically melted. Did we get those repair parts the last time we were at the Passages?"

They recognized the tone of her voice. She didn't want to talk about biodreads or Dread Youth anymore. Subject closed. Nothing to see here. Please pay no attention to the elephant in the room, thank you.

"Supply room," Scout said. "They're still in the crates. Tank, Hawk, give me a hand. We've got to do some heavy lifting to get to them."

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk and Tank moved a particularly heavy crate aside as Scout rummaged through another box for clamps and valves.

"Did anyone else find that conversation as disturbing as I did?" Scout asked them.

"More," Tank told him. "Dread's turning people into robots and has been for several years."

Hawk shoved the crate back against the wall and sat down. "And Project New Order's been in the works for that long. It sounds like Dread compartmentalized the assignments so no one group knew what the big plan was. And that makes no sense since everyone involved was loyal to Dread."

"Uh, guys," Scout said.

"Unless," Tank interrupted, "Dread had something in mind that he didn't want anyone to know about. Maybe even Overmind."

Hawk stood back up and began to pace. "So to keep it from Overmind, he had to keep it from some of the technicians and scientists."

"Guys," Scout tried again.

"So Dread might be planning something that might not be exactly what Overmind would approve of," Hawk continued.

"Guys!" Scout yelled to get their attention. "Yes, that whole human-mind-into-a-walking-tin-can issue can give you nightmares, but I'm talking about Jennifer. She's told us a lot over the years, but that's the first time she's been that open to us about something that happened when she was in Volcania. She watched someone get turned into a walking can opener, and she was on the short list to have the same thing happen to her. You didn't find that the least bit disturbing?"

"What are you talking about?" Hawk asked. "She didn't say she was –"

"Yes, she did," Tank answered, just realizing exactly what Jennifer had told them. "She said that someone she was assigned with volunteered, and then the rest of the squad was to be used for transfers after their assignments were completed."

Hawk sighed. "And their next assignment was Sand Town," he finished. "I missed that."

"Yeah," Scout picked up a few more items he knew they'd need. "What do you say to something like that?"

"We don't," Hawk told him.

"We don't?" Scout repeated. "How can we not say anything?"

Hawk could only grin. "_We_ don't, Rob. Jon will. He'll have more luck talking to her than any of us."

"Oh?" Scout asked. "Is something more going on during those late night chess games than we first thought?"

That brought a laugh from Hawk. "Other than Jennifer beating him practically every single game? Yeah, a little more is going on. She's opening up more about her past."

Tank picked up the box now full of the parts needed to repair the engines. "She's always told us about her past."

"Yeah, she's told us a lot and she's always answered our questions, but not like this," Hawk explained. Then, he added, "I've overheard part of a conversation or two."

"You've been eavesdropping," Tank stated, amused.

"Just keeping aware of what's going on here at the base like any good soldier," Hawk told him, a complete look of innocence on his face.

"Uh huh," Scout walked over to Hawk, "And keeping up with what's going on with those two?"

"Someone has to. I don't think either one of them has realized what's going on between them yet. They might need a little encouragement from us at some point, so it's best for us to be prepared," Hawk told them. "Anyway, Jennifer's told us the general things that the Dread Youth grow up with. Now, she's able to talk about the details, and some of it is worse than we've imagined, like what she just said."

They were quiet for a moment, each processing the idea that reality was worse than what they'd already been told.

"Leave it to Jon," Hawk told them, "and don't mention anything unless Jennifer brings it up first. Some things are hard enough for her to talk about without us putting any pressure on her."

~*~*~*~*~

Alone with Jennifer, Jon leaned against the workbench and watched as she concentrated fully on the engine. He admired the way she could focus on the task at hand, even when that task could bring up the bad memories. In this case, it was the mission and the following conversation that brought them back.

The conversation had hit a sore spot for her. She revealed more than she ever had before to the others. She had seen a human mind destroyed in a transfer, and she was scheduled for the same fate within days.

The engine was bearing the brunt of her frustration, and Jon could hear the groan of a few bolts as she removed them one by one.

What could he say about what she'd told them? Jon was truly at a loss for words.

He finally walked over to her worktable, took the wrench from her grasp and placed a hand on her shoulder. "That was some impressive flying you did out there today. Hawk said it was fighting you."

Jennifer glanced up at the jumpship and smiled a little. "No, she wasn't fighting me. She was doing everything she could to keep us in the air with only the afterburners. I could almost feel her trying to find the updrafts."

_She, not it_, Jon reminded himself. "I think you're the only one she'd do that for."

"She's a good ship," Jennifer said, her focus back on the engine.

Jon was quiet for a moment, then he told her, "If you want to talk –"

"Do you remember when I told you that Dread Youth don't have friends?" she asked quickly.

Jon nodded his head. "I remember."

"They isolate each soldier so there's only duty and obedience to the Machine. You don't do things for others because … well, you just don't. Those particular dynamics and relationships don't exist. If I had said anything to anyone, warned them, no one would have believed me, and I would have been reported for treason," she said, not looking away from the engine. "I'd have been digitized or shot."

Jon squeezed her shoulder before sitting down on the workbench.

"I know," he confirmed what he already knew. The way she grew up, no friends, no emotional ties to anyone, no trust, what could she have done? No one would have believed the truth. None of them could have. "No immortal minds in undying metalloid bodies," Jon reversed the litany. "After a lifetime of hearing one thing, it'd be nearly impossible to believe the opposite without proof."

"I know."

Jon sensed that there was something else she wanted to talk about. He gently tapped her on the arm and tried to look inquisitive. He didn't know how far to push the questions, so he chose to let her decide what to tell him.

For a moment, Jennifer didn't say anything. It was as if she were looking for the right words. "Everything happened so fast. When the transport landed, Colville and I were immediately shown our quarters and then it was almost time for lights out. Did you know that Dread Youth have no personal belongings other than a spare uniform? Everyone's quarters looked exactly the same. Everything was military issue, but we did all have plaques on the wall that had the litanies on them. In the very center of the wall was the one that read we would one day be immortal minds in undying metalloid bodies." She almost laughed. It was more like a choked sob. "My superior had told me the assignment I was on was very important to Dread, and he hand-picked all of the personnel for this new unit based on our performance and loyalty to the Machine. I was so excited and proud of myself that I didn't get much sleep that night. I kept staring at all the plaques on the wall and thinking I had served the Machine well and this was a reward. Then, that next morning, I saw Colville's mind transferred into a clicker. I couldn't make myself believe that everything I'd ever heard was a lie. I certainly couldn't believe my entire life was a lie. I kept thinking that I had to be wrong, that I didn't see what I thought I saw. Then, my unit was ordered to march to Sand Town within the hour. There is where it all… became clear."

What had Jennifer told him once? _A lot of things happened in the span of a few days that completely changed everything for me. _These events had happened in about twelve hours. He'd had no idea so much that was so bad had happened that quickly. He didn't know what else had happened in that span of a few days, but he sensed that now was not the time to ask. She needed to talk about _that_ moment, _those_ few hours.

Much more of her life made sense to him. He'd once wondered why Jennifer was special, why she was the one to break the training when other overunits and youth leaders saw the same thing but stayed utterly loyal to Dread. The truth was that none of them_ had_ seen what she did. Her eyes had been opened to the fact that she'd been lied to before the massacre at Sand Town. She was unique in that respect, as well as many others.

It was another reason why she'd had to escape as soon as she could. If she hadn't found a way to leave, she'd have been transferred into a biomech. Either turned into a biomech or face almost certain death in the wilderness, he couldn't imagine how she felt at that moment knowing how limited her choices were.

And if her mind had been transferred…

He didn't let that thought go any further. He didn't like the idea that this vibrant, independent woman might have been lost forever, trapped in a biomech without a consciousness -- that they would have never met.

"And you risked everything to escape after that," Jon finished for her. "I always knew that took a lot of courage. I didn't realize how much. I had no idea what you were facing."

"I wasn't brave. I didn't warn anyone because no one would have believed me, and I ran for my life because I didn't want to my mind transferred," she told him. "What kind of person doesn't warn others of danger?"

Jon couldn't see it that way, but he had the advantage or the disadvantage of being on the proverbial "outside looking in." "No one else would have seen it as a danger. They'd have seen it as gaining everything they were fighting for. It would have been the ultimate proof of loyalty to the Machine to become one, right?"

He waited for a moment until Jennifer nodded her head. "Leaving the way you did took more courage than you can imagine." Turning her back on absolutely everything she'd known, all she had grown up with because she found out the truth – she shouldered a heavy burden alone. Jon could see something else in her eyes. There was still some regret. She had escaped a fate worse than death, but what about the rest of her unit? For someone with such a big heart, who wanted to help people, there were a lot of regrets in her past even though she'd had no real choice in what she could do.

Jennifer took the wrench back and started removing the bolts in a much less angry movement, Jon helping where he could. They worked silently for a few moments, then Jon asked, "So, there's more than one mind in that new biodread?"

Jennifer nodded her head, but she didn't look up from her work. "There'd have to be. Given the power being focused on Volcania, it's likely tens of thousands of human minds were being transferred."

Tens of thousands? If that many biodreads were being built… "Are there are that many Dread Youth?"

Then, turning her head to look straight at him, Jennifer said, "Not just Dread Youth. Overmind has legions of minds in its databases. All the people that Soaron has digitized over the years are stored there. Not to mention all the people he's digitized over the last few months. It had the minds ready and available as soon as the biodreads were constructed. To be honest, stopping them from being made saved all those minds from a fate worse than digitization."

In essence, they had destroyed perhaps thousands of people who could have been reintegrated, but some of them, after so many years of being digitized… would they have still been sane? Had they truly saved them from a fate worse than what they were already experiencing?

"Sometimes, I wonder if this war will ever be over," he muttered. "Just when I think Dread can't do anything worse…"

"We find out he's done something worse," she said.

Jon thought that they maybe they needed a change of subject. "You know, there's an odd sort of irony to this mission," Jon told her. "On the one hand, we did everything we could to save Mentor, a machine, and then on the other we were trying to destroy newly built machines in Volcania."

She put down her tools and leaned against her worktable. "It's ironic, but it's not that simple. Mentor's not just a machine; he's one of the team." She finally smiled a real smile. "Hawk says Mentor's a lot like your father. He looks like him; he's got the same manner, personality and speech."

"Dad put a lot of himself into Mentor. He wanted an interface that seemed more human and less like a computer. Sometimes, having him around makes not having my dad here a little less painful. It feels like he's still here."

"And you can talk to him," Jennifer said.

"Yeah."

"A friendly face, "Jennifer mused. "I think now we have a better idea of what Dread was wanting with Jessica Morgan."

"We do?"

"He wanted a more humanistic looking form for the biodread, not the one he got. Jessica was an artist. She would have created that for him."

And there was irony in all its sarcastic form. "He wants a mechanized world but doesn't want to give up everything human."

"He wants both and he can't have them," Jennifer finished for him. "I wonder what Overmind had to say about that."

"Think it'd disagree?"

"Overmind's a machine. It's logical. As long as the biodreads are made to all specifications, it'd probably wonder why Dread would want to make it look any different." She sounded a little more like her old self. "I was talking to Mentor about the project names that Dread chose. If you really want irony, Dread named this one _Project Charon_. Mentor said that Charon was the ferryman who took souls to the underworld. On the one hand, a biodread does that when it digitizes someone, figuratively speaking. It traps them in its own version of hell. On the other, creating biodreads is another step on the road to hell." Jennifer removed the last bolt and removed the outer plate. "If we had crashed into Volcania, that's exactly where we would have sent Dread."

Irony again. Their mission had been fraught with ironic moments and revelations.

Yet, again, his thoughts were more focused on the incredibly complex woman beside him. She came so far in such a short time, faced so much before and after her escape. Jon had never known the threat she was under. Yet despite it all, she had this remarkable resiliency of spirit that never ceased to amaze him. If the jumpship crashed into the fortress, if it had gone down on the flight home, no matter what was gained, losing her was a price Jon wasn't willing to pay.

They both reached for the same tool at the same time, their hands touching. Jon looked up as he handed her the tool. "I'm glad we didn't crash into Volcania," he told her. "I wouldn't want to lose you."

Jennifer looked back at him, her gray eyes looking directly into his blue eyes. They shared a moment. There was a look. Jennifer tried to say something, but she didn't know what to say.

Then, realizing that he may have said too much, Jon quickly changed the subject. He glanced back over his shoulder and pointed toward the jumpship. "So, have you picked out a name for her yet?"


	11. Chapter 10 And Study War No More

**Episode 10 – And Study War No More**

_The Power Team discovers a hidden city called Haven that seems safe from Dread's forces. However, appearances are deceiving when they learn that the inhabitants are working with Dread on the Project Styx portion of his New Order Project._

~*~*~*~*~

Human speech was full of clichés and sayings from books, mythology and old movies. Perhaps it was inevitable that a few words strung together in a certain way would capture people's attention, permeate the collective consciousness and become part of the vernacular.

For example, there was an old saying – _the road to Hell is paved with good intentions_.

There was also another saying – _if you lay down with dogs, you're going to get fleas_.

Miles Williamson learned both those sayings were true in a way he never imagined. Maybe he had intended to protect his people at Haven but he made a deal with the devil to do it. He went down the road that good intentions paved into the Machine's 'definition of Hell' when that new biodread digitized him.

Jennifer had some experience dealing with collaborators when she was with the Dread Youth. At the time, she couldn't understand why anyone would want to fight the Machine. Once she knew the truth, she couldn't understand why anyone would want to help Dread. _Project Styx_… the River Styx was a river in the underworld which Charon ferried the souls of the dead across for a price. The gods would swear oaths by the River, making them unbreakable. What solemn oath did Williamson make to help Dread in his pursuit of ferrying souls into digitization or worse? She doubted if they'd ever really find out the truth.

How could anyone fool themselves into believing that Dread would spare them if they helped him? Why would anyone risk the lives of everyone in an entire town on a known lie? Dread wasn't going to spare any human from his new world order, and no litany, speech, or saying was going to change the truth of that.

To Jennifer, moments from their latest mission were a bit frustrating, but she knew that she still had a lot to learn about the human condition. Subterfuge, she understood. Lying, she understood. Utter duplicity was something she wished she didn't understand. No, the frustration she was feeling came from not knowing what a certain book was and how the phrase on the plaque became a saying worth repeating.

Late at night was a good time to talk to Mentor without interruptions so she volunteered for a lot of night shift duty. No one was around to overhear them, and they could talk about things that sometimes made the rest of the team somewhat uncomfortable or speechless. She could only explain their discomfort in one way: what the others took for granted, Jennifer didn't know existed. It was another by-product of being trained by the Dread Youth.

"Hello, Mentor," she said as she activated the hologram.

"Good evening, Corporal Chase," the image answered. "How are you this evening?"

"A bit tired but fine. We ran into the new biodread, blew up a city and delivered the refugees to the Passages," she told him with a smile. "It was a long day, and we had to leave the Passages rather quickly."

"Was there trouble in the Passages?"

Jennifer almost laughed. "Actually, Scout was trying to avoid trouble which is why we left so quickly," she answered cryptically.

"You have the night duty again tonight?" he asked.

"I volunteered. I knew I wasn't going to sleep. Too many questions are running through my mind."

The image smiled and nodded its head. "What kinds of questions? Maybe I can help find the answers."

Jennifer showed the image the plaque they'd found at Haven. "This saying – They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not lift up sword against nation and study war no more -- Tank said it came from something called the Good Book. What can you tell me about them?"

The image closed its eyes for a moment. Then, looking directly at her, he said, "The Good Book was a collection of certain religious texts written by various authors over millennia. There have been many translations and interpretations of the book over that time."

Mentor paused. Sometimes, that was how he and Jennifer discussed concepts. He'd begin with an answer that might not be explicit or detailed, and Jennifer could determine what concepts she wished to know more about. Religion was one topic they hadn't discussed in depth. It wasn't that Jennifer had no interest in the topic – in fact, she had a great interest in almost anything she could learn, but her indoctrination into Dread's "the Machine is superior" belief system was a part of her past she was still unusually angry about. It was a rather touchy subject for her and one in which she had not asked many questions.

Then, something he said caught her attention. "Millennia?"

"Indeed."

Paper didn't last thousands of years. It degraded and fell apart. "How did it survive that long?"

"By various means. For instance, if we use early A.D. Europe as a point of reference, texts and books were in the possession of monasteries or the very wealthy at one time. Before there was a printing press or movable type, scribes and monks painstakingly copied the pages by hand, both the words and artwork. Even if the original book was lost due to accident or time or some other means, the copies would still be in existence."

Ingenious. "That must have been a lot of work," Jennifer mused.

"It could take a great deal of time to copy a single book. The labor involved, the materials used – to put it in perspective, if a family owned as few as ten books, they were considered quite wealthy."

That brought a smile to Jennifer's face. "I guess we'd be considered wealthy by those standards. We have maybe forty intact books in our library. The rest are just bits and pieces of books we've found along the way."

"I understand that you found some books in readable condition in the San Francisco bookstore you and Captain Power went to in order to meet Athena Samuels," Mentor said conversationally.

"We found a few, but not many. When we opened most of them, the bindings fell apart and the pages were in tatters. The captain was very disappointed."

"I understand. Morgana and Stuart Power had a great love of books and had amassed quite a collection."

"Really?" Jennifer asked. "That must be why the captain loves to read so much."

"I'm certain that had a profound influence on the captain. He was a very well-read young man."

That brought up a new idea that Jennifer had never considered. "Parents influence their children?"

"Parents can often be the chief influence on children during their early years," Mentor explained. "The captain's parents placed a great deal of importance on learning as much as possible. They encouraged him in school and supported his extracurricular activities. They also taught him themselves. They took their job as parents quite seriously, and developing a love of books was part of that."

Parents. "I wonder what my parents were like," she whispered to herself. Lately, she'd been talking more about her past with Jon, thinking more about her childhood, trying to remember anything from before. What was it like to have a family? What was her home like? Where was her home? She had no memory of parents or siblings, aunts or uncles. What she did remember was vague, like old pictures taken with a camera that was out of focus.

Hawk spoke of his wife and children occasionally. Scout mentioned his mother a few times. Tank had a brother, but he never knew what happened to him. Jon talked about his father, but he rarely spoke of his mother. Each of them had a very different family structure that they would discuss, but Jennifer couldn't guess anything about her parents. She couldn't picture a face or imagine a voice. She didn't know if she had been loved or wanted. Until she had joined the team, she had never known what it was like to be cared about or cared for. She tried to imagine having that kind of feeling when she was a child, but it just wasn't in her memory. The only family she had was the team, but how long would that feeling last? What would happen if they won the war, and they could disband and go their separate ways?

She owed the guys so much. They had taught her what it was like to be human, Jon especially. When she first joined the team, she was always so curious, always asking questions, and they showed so much patience in answering. Yet, there was still much she believed she needed to learn, even about herself.

Something was changing in her. More than that, something was changing between her and the captain. Jon's words, his actions of late… the way he looked at her… she was beginning to believe that he cared for her differently than he once did. She knew her feelings had changed -- new to her as they were -- but she refused to ask anyone other than Mentor to explain anything. She couldn't. Emotions were confusing enough, and she honestly didn't know how to ask any of the guys about them. Then there were the military rules they lived by – sort of. She was a corporal, Jon was a captain and they had a war to fight. She wasn't going to do anything to complicate or disrupt their friendship or the team balance. She just wished she better understood how to deal with what she was feeling.

"Corporal Chase?" Mentor's voice broke into her thoughts.

Jennifer glanced up, then glanced around the room. They were still alone, still free to speak without being overheard. "So the captain had a large library to read from. What happened to the books?" she asked.

"Most of their library was housed in their home which, unfortunately, was destroyed during the Metal Wars. Very few found their way to this base. However, Stuart Power did download some of the texts into my database that you and I use in our discussions. Others have been added over the years."

Again, that made Jennifer smile. "I wish we had more books. I'd never seen one until I came here. We used computer monitors in the Dread Youth to study the lessons. There's a special feeling when you hold a book in your hands and can feel the pages yourself. You can hear that soft crinkle of the paper when you turn it. You can sometimes smell the ink."

"There is a profound tactile sensation when holding a book that can't be duplicated by a monitor. Are there any books in particular you'd wish to have?" Mentor asked.

That question took her by surprise. Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. I've read all the books we've got. Several times. I've read a lot of the ones you've got stored in your database –"

"But if you could have additional books of your own to read?"

Jennifer thought for a moment. "I've heard Scout mention someone called Sherlock Holmes and pretend to be answering a question while holding a pipe. He said that Holmes was a famous fictional detective. Hawk said something once about chasing a great white whale and said that idea came from a story called Moby Dick. Tank once said his favorite pirate was one named Long John Silver, and he was in Treasure Island. I think I'd like to read those first."

Mentor did a quick inventory of his files. "Unfortunately, I do not have those texts in my database," he lamented. "Doctor Power's focus was on primarily preserving the sciences and world history before downloading any classics. Given all the knowledge that has been lost and not taught as evidenced by the Dread Youth curriculum, I'm not sure it was a wise move."

Mentor was questioning Stuart Power? That was new. Essentially, Mentor was designed and programmed to 'think' like Stuart Power. "Why wasn't it a wise move?" she asked.

"Literature has been known to yield a better understanding of the context of history than the study of history alone."

"The context of history?" Jennifer asked. "What do you mean?"

"Simply that knowing a fact and understanding a fact can be very different concepts. Using historical data in a story can give an added depth and promote a greater comprehension of events by allowing a reader to view how such moments affected the lives of the fictional characters. Using known places, words, phrases in a story give them a new context and an added three-dimensional quality that surpass being mere words on a page." He paused for a moment, then continued. "Take the names Dread is using for the various sections of his project -- Project Charon and Project Styx. The words themselves would mean nothing if you didn't know who Charon was and what the River Styx represented in ancient cultures. The mere mention of the words can create a mental image that, when added to the facts of the project, give the scenario an added depth and understanding."

Jennifer thought for a moment, grasping the idea of understanding history in literature form… and she realized that Mentor was making a point. "How does this connect to what we were talking about?" she asked.

If the image were alive, he would have laughed. "Literature can express history without being historically focused. Ideas and concepts can be expressed with words like the saying on the plaque. Sometimes, it is not what is said that is as important as how it is said and when it is said to convey an idea. For instance, a sentence spoken by a character in one part of a story can be repeated later on with an entirely different meaning depending on the situation."

Jennifer thought for a moment. "I'd never thought of it in those terms before." She looked back down at the plaque. Mentor had brought them back to the topic at hand. He was very good at letting Jennifer ask questions and then bringing them full circle so they could discuss all the nuances of the topic possible. Yet, there was more to this particular phrase than he'd explained so far. That meant there was far more to discuss. She thought over what he'd said, then stated, "So this phrase on the plaque may be more than just a singular concept. The words can mean something else entirely depending on how it's used."

"Correct." Again, Mentor considered his answer.

All of this sounded somewhat familiar. "We discussed something like this with Shakespeare's stories as well, didn't we?" Jennifer asked.

"There are certain parallels." Mentor counted off several Shakespearean sayings and clichés. "A tower of strength, all the world's a stage, an eye-sore, cold comfort, come full circle, dead as a doornail, elbow room, for goodness sake, in my mind's eye, knock-knock-who's there, laughing stock, love is blind, star-crossed lovers, working day world – as to whether he coined all the phrases himself or if he heard them and incorporated them into his plays, there is some speculation to that. However, these phrases are in his works and can be read by people for as long as words can be preserved. Regardless of how these phrases are used in his stories, these words can be and have been adapted to later times."

Jennifer sensed that they had reached the point where all the discussion could come together to explain her original question. "And the saying on the plaque?"

"It is found in the book of Isaiah. He was writing about what he saw concerning the people in the city of Judah. One interpretation is that those who did not follow the religious teachings were doomed; those who did would find peace and would beat their swords into plowshares –"

"And their spears into pruning hooks," Jennifer finished.

"There has been debate as to the interpretation of the passage. Some believed it to be figurative, others literal."

"So this particular phrase is part of a story, not the story itself?"

"That is one of the valid arguments that can be made. The phrase has a certain meaning to the story, yet taken by itself, it can convey something somewhat different."

Jennifer looked down at the plaque. "So if I were to use this saying, I could be talking about our current war with Dread, not using it in the same way the original writer did. We want this war to be over so we no longer had to use weapons. Our energies could be put to other uses."

"Exactly," Mentor smiled. "This is one of the many phrases found in books that have become a cliché."

"Still so much to learn," she muttered to herself.

~*~*~*~*~

Biodreads were a nightmare.

Going up against that new biodread in Haven gave Jon nightmares.

_The control room was dark and silent. Jon could see into the room but he couldn't enter. The biodread was standing in front of him, facing the opposite direction. There was someone in the room, standing in the shadows. The biodread blocked Jon's view. He could almost see the biodread raise his arm to digitize whoever was there… or was it to shoot whoever was there? There was a blast of light –_

Jon woke up in a cold sweat, the nightmare uppermost in his mind. It was about something he didn't like to think about, but he was an experienced soldier who knew the nightmare could come true. Not thinking about it wouldn't mean it wouldn't happen.

Jon had a bad feeling that not making sure that biodread was destroyed was going to come back to haunt him. The feeling settled into his gut and wouldn't go away. He didn't know how or when, but he knew that something bad was going to happen.

But destroying Haven… a city that could grow its own food! -- that had hurt. One could only imagine the amounts of food that could be distributed among the towns in the area. Food, energy, a completely self-sustaining city – and they had to blow the geothermals on it and destroy it to stop Project Styx and the new biodread. There wasn't much choice, no matter how regrettable, but it was getting harder and harder to find good nutrient-filled soil to grow food. Some towns were on the brink of starvation, and nutritional supplements weren't enough to sustain a population.

Dread could destroy the human race by starvation instead of digitization if he waited.

Every time Jon thought Dread's murderous tendencies couldn't get any worse, he would do something like invent Project New Order or create a destructive biodread to wreak havoc on humanity.

When would it all end?

How would it all end?

If it did end, then what?

Thoughts like that rarely kept Jon awake, but they were bouncing around his thoughts, keeping sleep away that night. What would happen to the human race if the Resistance were to defeat Dread tomorrow? How long would it take to reclaim the land and grow crops? How long would it take the human race to rebuild cities, roads, waterways, electrical plants, communication lines? Reconstruction could take years. How would the human race fare on a post-Dread, war-ravaged planet? How long would it take to repopulate the planet? What information had been lost? How much knowledge?

Cities like Haven – were there more of them? Could Eden II truly exist? Were there resources available to people that were still unknown?

When the thoughts kept coming one after the other, Jon knew it was time to take a walk around the base. He needed to work off some excess energy. Maybe then, he could get some sleep.

He passed by the other sleeping quarters. He could almost make out Tank's snoring – good thing the walls were thick, he thought to himself. Hawk and Scout's rooms were silent. Pilot had the night duty. Maybe she'd be happy to see her chess opponent. There was no more sleep in him, not after that nightmare, and the chess games helped relax him as well as let him spend time with Jennifer.

Lately, Jon had noticed that there was something on Jennifer's mind. Something about her was changing. She was able to talk more about her past in the Dread Youth, open up more about things the rest of them had no idea about. Her past couldn't be summed up merely as 'a member of the Dread Youth.' It was far more complex than that, and it was a complexity Jon had not known existed. He wanted to know more, but he didn't want to ask questions she wasn't ready to answer yet.

Also, there had been something on his mind, and Jennifer was the focus. So much had happened to them lately that had Jon seeing Jennifer in a much different light. The problem was that he had to keep that light under wraps. If he let his feelings get the best of him… no, he couldn't do that. There had been times lately when his behavior had slipped, when he became more familiar than a commanding officer should. Besides, he had no idea how she felt about him, so it was best to keep things between them professional, right? He had a war to fight and a team to take care of. Going beyond friendship… now was not the time. Someday though…

He rounded the corner and heard some tapping in the distance. He followed the echo to the control room and discovered that more was going on than just simple night shift duty. Jennifer was nailing the plaque that Tank had given her to the wall. It was a nice touch. The control room was mostly computers and monitors. A plaque like that was a pleasant distraction.

_They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation shall not lift up sword against nation and study war no more._

He watched her carefully straighten the plaque, making it level on the wall. He noticed that she never did anything half-way. If she repaired a device, she worked until it was completely finished. If she built a device, she didn't stop until it was done. She didn't try to make anything perfect -- she whole-heartedly disagreed with the idea of perfection in any form -- but she wanted what she worked on to work correctly.

He glanced at the last few words on the plaque. _Study war no more_. It was a nice thought and a lofty goal, but could the human race ever reach that point where war was a thing of the past? Could this be one adage that could come true?

Jennifer looked around and saw him standing there. "Hi." She stepped back and pointed at the plaque. "What do you think? I wanted it where we could all see it. At least for a little while. I'll move it later."

"I like the view from here," he commented as he walked around Mentor's console to get a better look. Jennifer stood in front of it, not blocking his view but improving it. He noticed that her hair was down, not pulled back in a ponytail. He was noticing little things like that more and more lately. "Those are good words to live by."

"Tank said it's from The Good Book. Mentor was telling me about it."

"It is," he told her. "There are a lot of sayings that came from that book. We still use them every now and then and don't even realize it."

"We were just talking about that, among other things."

Jon sat down at the console. Sometimes, he was a bit jealous of Mentor. He could talk to Jennifer about things no one else could. Jon wished he could answer her questions even half as well as the computer did.

"What kinds of things?" he asked, hoping that he wasn't asking her to answer a question she didn't want to.

"Clichés, sayings, old books, how the meanings can change – things like that."

Ah, a literary discussion. "Sounds like something my mom would have loved to talk about," he reminisced.

"Mentor told me that your parents had a big book collection."

Jon nodded his head. "They did. My mom loved to get first editions. Collected as many as she could. Dad read everything he could get his hands on. They had this huge library. Mahogany shelves, leather chairs, a big bay window that let in a lot of light… I loved that room. My dad and I would talk in there for hours when I was a kid. I had a lot of questions."

"What did you talk about?"

He could see the interest in her eyes. It was the look she'd get when she learned something new. She never knew her parents. She never knew what it was like to sit on her father's lap and listen to him read a story. She never knew what it was like to hear her mother's voice. She had to experience such things vicariously through stories.

"Everything. Anything. Uh, Dad would take complex scientific theories and tell them to me in a way a child could understand. Chaos theory, string theory, the Big Bang – he'd tell it all in stories. And before I learned to read, he'd sit me in the chair beside him and read to me. He'd point to the words as he read them, so that helped me recognize words when I went to school." He thought about those moments, those times when he felt like everything was right with the world and he was safe, comfortably sitting next to his dad reading a book. "One day, I'd love to have a library like that again."

He hadn't felt that safe or that comfortable since he was a child.

He noticed as Jennifer glanced up at the computer console and smiled.

"What?"

"I never thought about it, but your dad was your mentor when you were a boy. Maybe that's why he gave Mentor that name, so he could always be here in some way to help you."

Nice thought. Comforting thought. "Knowing dad, I wouldn't doubt it." He felt his emotions starting to well up at the thought of his father.

Time to change the subject. There were times when he had problems talking about his dad.

He looked at the plaque again. _They shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. _

"I wonder if we'll ever get a chance to put up our weapons and not fight anymore," he mused out loud. "Turn them into farming tools and start growing vegetables..."

Jennifer nodded her head and sat down as well. "Absolutely," she said confidently. "Almost all the stories tell of the good guys beating the bad guys, right?"

Jon laughed. "And since we're the good guys and Dread is the bad guy, we have to win? Wouldn't that be a bit of a cliché?"

"Of course. What kind of story would it be if the bad guys won?" she asked him with a smile. "Have you ever noticed that all those stories seem the same? The good guys beat the bad guys –"

"The hero gets the girl at the end –"

"And then the story's over. Well, what happens the next day? The stories never touch on that."

Jon shook his head. "No, you don't hear about what the good guys do after they put down their guns. Kind of makes you wonder what they do when there's no one to fight anymore."

"Well," she thought for a moment, "maybe we'll have to face the same situation one day. What are we going to do when the war is over?"

Now that was a thought that Jon hadn't considered in a long time, and the thought of '_we_' was one that had not crossed his mind. Before. The idea of '_we_' gave him a new perspective that he mentally pushed to the side. Now was not the time to ponder 'the hero gets the girl' cliché. "We'd have to find new jobs, I guess. I wonder what out-of-work Resistance captains do," he joked.

The question itself brought up a particular difference in their backgrounds. Jon had known peace as a boy and a young teen. He'd known the world before Dread. Jennifer had never known anything but war and battle training. The idea that nations would beat their swords into plowshares and study war no more had to be as foreign to her as a dead language. Peace was probably a word she'd never heard growing up, and the idea that there were professions available to people in peacetime was a thought she'd never had to consider. "I don't think I'd make it as a farmer even if I did turn my sword into a plow share. I was never very good at making gardens grow. I wasn't born with a green thumb."

"Green thumb?" she asked.

"Someone who's good at gardening," he explained. "If the war were over tomorrow, what's something you'd like to do?"

Jennifer's brow furrowed in thought. "I'm a pilot, so I guess there would be jobs I could find doing that."

Right. A pilot. Only a pilot? "What else? Anything in particular you might like to try?"

Jennifer put the hammer down and sat down at the console. She thought for a moment, considering her next words. "I'd like to find out where I came from and what my real name is. I want to know who my parents were and what they were like. I might have relatives out there somewhere. The information may still be in Volcania's databanks somewhere."

"Maybe we can find it someday."

Jennifer shook her head. "I don't think we'll get an opportunity like that. I've never questioned where I came from before, but I've been wondering about all that lately. I don't know why it seems so important now."

Jon considered the statement. What could he say to that? "Maybe now that you know the truth, you're ready to know the facts?"

"Maybe."

Jon had never heard her mention wanting to learn about her past in quite that way. He'd only recently learned that she didn't know her given name – none of the Dread Youth did. That was part of what Dread took from them. Perhaps this was a good time to learn what she knew of her past.

"Do you know how you ended up in the Dread Youth?"

Jennifer shrugged her shoulders. "I can't be certain if what I think I remember is real or just a nightmare. I was maybe three years old, I think. I remember I was outside chasing a butterfly. I remember looking in the distance and seeing the soldiers running toward me. Everyone was running, and there was yelling. Someone grabbed me, picked me up and ran. A woman -- I don't know who it was. We ran into a dark room, and that's where the soldiers came. The next thing I can recall is being marched down a long hallway with a lot of other children, and Dread was there telling us that we were special. We were going to make the world perfect. I don't really remember much else before I was at Volcania, but when I was a little girl, after I was taken, I had this dream about statues and a painting of a bird on a white background, a staircase with an intricate banister with a half moon and a stuffed animal shoved into a hole. I never knew if it was a dream or a memory. It's not much to go on, but maybe if I could find the statues, I might find a clue about where I came from."

"What did the statues look like?" Jon asked, very interested in her answer.

Jennifer thought for a moment as if trying to find the right words. "They seemed tall. Metal, I think. One was a man on a horse, but there are thousands of statues like that still standing. One was a man holding some type of weapon. I have this vague feeling that some of the statues themselves were famous, not just heroes being honored with a statue."

She was right. It wasn't much to go on. "It's a place to start," he said.

Jennifer quickly changed the subject. "You're up late. You couldn't sleep?"

Jon shook his head. "No. I had a nightmare about that biodread. We should have made sure it was destroyed. It was vulnerable after being buried."

"Maybe the explosion finished it," Jennifer suggested.

"I don't think so. It might take more than an explosion to finish him off," Jon mused. "He just kept coming. It's like he's stronger than Soaron."

"_That'_s a scary thought," she told him. "It's a good thing he was the only one Dread was able to make. I'd hate to think of an army of them running around."

Running around? Oh, wait -- "Speaking of running, what happened at the Passages when we dropped off the people from Haven? I've never seen Scout so eager to leave as he was today. He usually likes to visit."

Jennifer just nodded her head and smiled again. "Apparently, Chelsea Chandler is something of an amateur botanist, and she was assigned to work in hydroponics in the Passages. There's a scientist named Patricia who works in hydroponics, Scout is rather interested in both women so… "

Jon laughed. "He's in for a world of trouble."

"Tank said Scout was stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"I wouldn't want to be in his shoes," Jon commented.

No, but then Jon didn't see himself in a similar situation. Two women didn't have his attention. There was only one, and she was on his mind now more than ever before.

"Well, there is something I'd like to know," Jennifer said quickly.

"What's that?"

She pointed back toward the plaque. "What's a plowshare and a pruning hook?"


	12. Chapter 11 The Intruder

_Author's notes: Sorry for the delay. Real life and some work deadlines popped up and took control temporarily. I had a small window of time to finish it before the next deadline takes control of my life. _

_The Intruder was one of my favorite episodes, and there were a few issues brought up during the story that made me wonder what Jon was thinking after they returned to the base. _

**Episode 11 – The Intruder**

_Andy Jackson, a former Earthforce marine demolitions expert, believes he can 'earn' his way on the team if he proves how resourceful he is. Sneaking onto the jumpship and then into the base, he learns that not only did he not impress the Power Team, but he endangered their existence by compromising the base. When his partner's life is endangered by a biodread, Jackson has to ask the Power Team to help rescue him. The problem comes when the team isn't certain if they can trust him._

~*~*~*~*~

**Problem #1:  
**An intruder unlocked the hatch and sneaked on board the jumpship.

**Jennifer Chase's Security Rule #1:  
**No one should be able to sneak on board the jumpship.

**Problem #2:  
**An intruder bypassed the security system.

**Jennifer Chase's ****Security Rule #2:  
**No one should be able to bypass the security system on board the jumpship.

Taking all of that into account meant that the team had one very annoyed, very angry pilot on their hands. Jennifer did not like the idea that anyone could break in to the jumpship by accessing their security system given how intricate the programs were. If someone like Andy Jackson could do that with the simple device he had, what could someone with access to more advanced technology do?

**Overriding Jumpship Security Rule:  
**Do NOT mess with Jennifer's jumpship or else.

That was the one rule the team knew well – do not mess with the jumpship. It wasn't just the Power Team's jumpship any longer. It was _Jennifer's_ jumpship. She took meticulous care of it. Someone broke in? The team was guaranteed several days of recalibrating equipment and reprogramming computers to make sure that didn't happen again.

Sitting in the pilot's seat, Jennifer and the jumpship had a bit of a one-sided conversation that amused the rest of the team as they listened.

"Now let's get one thing straight," she said to the console, "you don't let anyone in here unless it's one of us or someone with us, okay? What if Jackson had been the enemy? He might have flown away with you. We would have never seen you again and there's no guarantee anyone else would take care of you like we do. You can't trust just anyone who wanders by and unlocks your hatch, you know."

Hawk laughed. Sitting in the co-pilot's seat, he could only agree, but someone had to stand up and defend the jumpship. "I'm sure she didn't mean to let a stranger in. There has to be a perfectly logical explanation."

"And I think I found it," Scout said as he completed a diagnostic on the ship's systems. "The device Jackson used ran on an older operating system. It's compatible with one of the systems we use on the jumpship. Basically, his device used subroutines similar to one we use in the buffer to confound the Dreadheads. That one system recognized the similarity and let him in. It didn't recognize the device as a foreign computer."

"That's not good," Jennifer muttered.

"What does that mean exactly?" Jon asked the resident computer experts.

Jennifer slowed the ship as they approached the landing bay of the base. "We run certain older programs in our detection and security arrays to keep any Dread forces from gaining access to our primary systems since their equipment don't have the ability to breach them. At the same time, we run programs more advanced than anything they've got so we can monitor them without their being able to trace us," Jennifer began the descent. "Scout and I wrote a series of buffer programs that allow the two basically incompatible systems to work together. Jackson was able to access one of the older recognition programs in the buffer and have it tell the more advanced security program to unlock the hatch."

Jon didn't like that. "How do to correct that?"

"For a start, we'll have to reprogram the buffers," Scout said. "Jackson's device was very similar to some of our own equipment. Dread doesn't have anything like it because he doesn't use the military equipment from the Metal Wars like we have to, but he could improvise."

Jennifer sighed. "That means reprogramming some of our equipment as well."

"Good thing you and I didn't have any plans for the next few months," Scout told her. "If we work straight through nights, weekends, free time, we could have the reprogramming finished by your birthday."

"That's not until January," she reminded him.

"Yep, and it might take that long," Scout joked.

"Maybe it's time we got a new, updated ship?" Jon teased, knowing Jennifer's opinion on that subject.

Hawk teased back. "It's bad luck to switch ships if you haven't named your current ship, and Jennifer hasn't done that yet."

Jennifer just shook her head and smiled. She patted the console. "Don't pay them any attention, sweetheart," she said to the ship. "They're just trying to annoy us."

~*~*~*~*~

Tank pulled the circuit board from the door-lock of the jumpship and handed it to Pilot. "I had a feeling that biodread wasn't destroyed at Haven. It's going to cause us trouble."

"He's tougher to put down than Soaron is. His aim is better, too," she added as she hooked the wires from the diagnostic computer into the circuit board.

"Does that thing even have a name?" Scout wondered aloud as he monitored the diagnostic readouts. "We can't keep calling it 'it' or at least call it something we can say in polite company."

Hawk laughed. "We're polite? Since when?"

"I didn't say _us_," Scout joked. Then he let out a low whistle. "Jen, I think we got off lucky."

"What is it?" she asked as she moved behind him to see the readout.

"He used an algorithm that basically went through a process of elimination to find the right program. All we have to do is –"

"Re-modulate the security programs in the buffer," she finished for him.

"Looks like we'll be finished in a couple of days," Scout almost crowed.

~*~*~*~*~

Jon listened as they discussed the various forms of modulation programs that could be loaded into the buffer, the additional security protocols that could run concurrently between the opposing systems, the multiple… actually, he lost track of the conversation after that. The jumpship was in extraordinarily good hands, and that usually meant everyone else was in the way.

He cleared his throat. "So what can we do?" he asked Jennifer and Scout.

"Not much," Jennifer answered as she began to bring up the buffer programs on the monitor, "unless you can code a program in a binary language which can be translated –"

"Uh, no, I can't do any of that," Jon smiled as he interrupted her quickly, hands up as if he were surrendering. "Anything else?"

Scout and Jennifer looked at each other, then both shook their heads. "No, Captain, I think we're good. It's just going to take time," she explained.

"It could take a couple of days to go through all the programs and load the correct re-modulations," Scout added.

"Then a couple more to test them," Jennifer informed them.

"Then we have to make sure no one can bypass the base's security system," Scout mentioned.

"Which means a complete rewrite of some of our security arrays in Mentor's computer systems," Jennifer finished.

Jon, Hawk and Tank stood silently for a moment, then Hawk asked, "So we're in your way?"

A quick glance from Jennifer, a bemused smile, an indulgent nod, and the three of them left the jumpship in good humor.

As they walked across the landing bay, Hawk shook his head. "I didn't understand any of that," he told the other two men.

"Be glad those two did," Tank said. "They're always trying to find ways to outsmart Dread's computers. It's like a game with them."

Jon agreed completely. "Don't give them any ideas; at least, not today. I think they've got enough on their plate."

"Speaking of plates," Tank headed off toward the kitchen, "it was Scout's turn to cook, but I don't think Pilot is going to let him quit work just to feed us. I guess I'll take kitchen duty tonight."

Alone, Hawk and Jon walked on toward the control room. Jon could sense that Hawk needed to speak to him about something. "What is it?"

Hawk shrugged. "Nothing. Just… what did Jackson mean when we left -- that you needed to explain something to Jennifer?"

Oh, that. "I think Jackson overheard one of Jennifer's conversations with Mentor," Jon told him. He was NOT going to tell anyone _exactly_ what Jackson had said. "I think it had something to do with a literary point made in a book. Maybe Jackson thought that a computerized answer might not be the best explanation."

Besides, what Jackson had suggested that Jon explain to Jennifer was hitting too close to home. He wasn't certain he could be all that objective.

~*~*~*~*~

Standing in the control room. Jon listened to the quiet whirring of the systems. He knew every panel, every control, every button. The control room was a home to him – or as much of a home a headquarters could be. He'd spent many hours in the control room listening to reports, reading incoming Intel, formulating attacks, playing chess with Jennifer…

The base itself was more than a mass of steel, rock and electronics. It was a home full of memories and friendship and moments that made life special. As important as the walls and consoles and framework were to him, it was those moments that Jon treasured most. It was talking with Hawk about everything a teenage boy wants to know as he grew up. It was learning new things about computers while watching Scout rebuild and reprogram old, defunct electronics. It was listening to Tank and Hawk pick on each other good naturedly, the two of them recalling times that Jon barely remembered. It was watching Jennifer as she made each new discovery of the world that Dread had stolen from her.

An intruder in the base, an intruder bent on destruction, would have destroyed the chance for them to create more memories inside the base.

Could Jon have blown it all up? Could he have ordered the self-destruction of the base and demolished everything in it to keep an enemy from gaining access to even a single computer chip?

Would he have had the courage?

He thought he could, but he hoped he'd never have to find out.

Yet the thought kept gnawing at him. There was an evacuation plan if he ever ordered the self-destruct. Download Mentor onto a portable hard drive, get the spare power suits, take anything not nailed down and could be used establishing another base, and get the hell out. That last part was the most important. More suits could be designed, a base could be built, even Mentor could be duplicated to some extent, things could be replaced but a human life couldn't. Their lives were more important than anything else, even Mentor.

Thinking back, Jon reflected on how Jennifer and Scout had worked tirelessly to save Mentor when the biomech's head exploded. Mentor was more than a computer, more than the image of his father. Mentor was the foundation of the base, the one _individual_ who any of the team could speak with and talk to about anything and receive a rather Stuart Power-ish answer. He was their sounding board, their wealth of information, their steady guide during late night conversations. He was even the occasional onlooker, advising Jon which chess piece to move. One day, Jon was going to learn to listen to him if he ever hoped to beat Jennifer in a game again.

Mentor was important to all of them. He was the sixth member of the team. If the base were destroyed but they still had Mentor, then the intent of what his father hoped for would still live on in the complex programs that made up the interactive hologram. The dream to free the world of Dread would still be there as long as the team was together, had a place to operate from and Mentor was there to act as their keel.

No, he could lose the base, but what he didn't want to lose was anyone from his team. That was a sacrifice he didn't want to make.

As a soldier, he knew that nothing was permanent. Many times, a soldier had to sacrifice what was important to him, destroy what he loved in order to win a battle or stop the enemy. If they had to destroy the base, their home, then they would. Jon would rationalize the need as part of the war and push the button without a second thought. He'd mourn the loss later. Hawk would have done it with a quick last look around. Tank and Scout? Either one of them would push the buttons without thinking twice because it was something they had to do, but they would salute its memory later on. Jennifer would follow the order because she knew better than anyone the risk of allowing an enemy access to the base, but she would feel the loss in a way the others couldn't. She'd be destroying the first home she had ever known. It was the place where she learned what the word _home_ meant. It meant a place where people cared about her and worried about her, who took care of her if she was wounded or sick, who laughed with her and talked with her. _Home_ was more than just a mere four-letter word or a place with four walls. _Home_ was where your heart was.

That was when the truth became apparent. Any one of them would have destroyed the base if they had to, they were soldiers and accepted the risks, but none of them would want to because it was _home_.

That realization made, Jon had a bigger problem to ponder – Andy Jackson.

~*~*~*~*~

Jennifer watched the readouts as the onboard computer isolated the specific programs Jackson's device randomly searched through to give him access to the ship. Regardless of what she and Scout had said, this was going to be a little more involved than just modulating security programs in the buffer.

Jackson's method of sneaking onboard the jumpship hadn't been an obvious one. It wasn't the type they could have anticipated. Accessing the buffer programs? Basically, no one could access the buffer programs. Only going through the two main systems could do that, but in order for Jackson to get to the main systems, he had to access the buffer programs. It was maddening in a catch-22 sort of way.

What was worse – if Jackson had been a bad guy, they might have had to blow up the base to keep it out of enemy hands.

_The base…_

The idea of losing their home wasn't one Jennifer liked to think about. They all knew that the self-destruct was the last option and that one day, any of them might have to use it. Still, to lose the base, that would be difficult. The rest of the team viewed it as a military base as well as where they lived, but Jennifer saw it as her home. It was odd – she'd never heard the word _home_ when she was growing up. All her life, it was _return to base, return to barracks, report to your duty station_. The first time she heard the word was before she was an official member of the team. She had been allowed on a few missions with the team, one helping relocate some villagers to a safer location. The mission lasted several days, and when it was completed, Hawk sat down in the pilot's seat of the jumpship and said in a very loud voice, "Where to, everyone?"

Scout had answered, "Home sounds like a winner."

Jennifer had never heard of a settlement or a sector called Home. She wondered if it was one of the various towns that sprang up quickly in the wastelands. She didn't ask. She wasn't certain how to ask since everyone else seemed quite happy to go to this Home. She was surprised to find Hawk flying into the landing bay at the base. So the base was called Home? That was its designation? She thought it was called the Power Base.

The captain had given her limited access to Mentor, the interactive holographic computer. Mostly, it was for information purposes with a lot of information still off limits to her. As it was, Mentor's knowledge of life outside the Dread Youth had interested Jennifer more than any information dealing with war issues.

When she was alone with Mentor, she would ask all sorts of questions about life before the wars, about people, about how things used to be. Sometimes, she felt awkward asking the others. They seemed surprised at her lack of knowledge, but they never used it against her in any way.

That night, she went to the control room and switched on the computer.

"Hello, Mentor."

"Hello, Miss Chase," he smiled down at her. "I trust the mission was successful?"

"It was. I wanted to ask a question, but I don't know if it's classified."

The hologram looked down at her, a patient look on his face. "You've asked very few questions that I have been unable to answer."

That was true. Very few of her questions had been about anything to do with the war. "After the mission was finished, Hawk asked where did we want to go, and Scout said _Home_. We came here. Is _Home_ the name of this base?"

"No," the hologram shook his head. "This base is home for the team. This is where they live."

He obviously saw her confused look. "Have you never heard of the word _home_?"

"No. I first heard it today. I thought it was a location we were flying to."

"Home has many meanings. In this particular case, a home is a place where one lives, a residence; a physical structure such as a house or, in this case, a base. It is a dwelling place where a family or a social unit lives and provides an environment that offers security and happiness. It can also be the name of a headquarters, often referred to as a home base. That term, however, would allow us to cross over to a sport called baseball where a home base is part of the game, but I think that particular discussion can wait until another time."

Jennifer considered that. "So _home_ is the term for where you live?"

"In some respects, yes, but it is much more than that. The word itself encompasses an emotion, a state of being. Home is where a person is loved and cared for, where one feels safe. It is where one is welcome. There are sayings about home such as _home sweet home_, _home is where the heart is_ and _there's no place like home_. Others include _a house is just a building, it takes people to make it a home_."

Jennifer had lived in Volcania most of her life, yet it didn't feel anything like the way Mentor described the word home. It hadn't been home. It had been where she'd been billeted, that was all.

It took time, but she learned what the meaning of the word _home_ meant for them. The base was more than just walls and floors and elevators. It was the life that all of them together forged inside those walls that made it a home and not just a base.

For Jennifer, the base was the first place she could call _home_. For Jon, it was much more. The base was his father's legacy. It was a place to fight, a place to find refuge, a place to remember what used to be. Every room had something that Jon could look at and see his father's influence. Blowing up the base would mean Jon would lose all that. Jennifer didn't want that to happen.

She was going to do whatever she could to see that he didn't lose the base.

That meant no more intruders on the base.

"We need a failsafe," she muttered, mostly to herself but Scout heard her.

"No arguments there, but all the ones we've tried before have caused more problems than they've solved." Scout began typing new commands into the program.

More problems. That was the truth. Given the diverse nature of their programming style, some failsafes were incompatible with other programs. "Unless…" Jennifer began to say.

"Unless?"

"What if we put in a program that recognizes our particular patterns in addition to the usual security protocols?"

Scout stopped typing. "DNA… well, we know our fingerprints and voiceprints could be easily duplicated."

"Which was proven very well when that biodread copied Jeb's voice," Jennifer told him. "Jackson knew it wasn't him because of what was said, not the voice that said it."

"To get past a DNA analyzer, they'd only need our blood or a bit of tissue."

"True," Jennifer stood and slowly paced as she thought about what they could do. "What if we use a program that's similar to the one our suits use to recognize us?"

Scout leaned back and considered the possibilities. "Our suits are basically blank slates when they're first designed, each suit downloaded with the same programs. The first time they're worn and powered on, the activators use the electrical impulses traveling between our synapses to imprint itself with our specific brain patterns. The suits become specifically geared to the particular abilities of the wearer. That's why Hawk flies and Tank can bust through walls." Scout thought some more. "Our suits will only power on if the wearer touches the badge and vocally orders it to power on."

Jennifer saw that he realized where she was going with the idea. "Just because our suits are specific to its wearer, that doesn't mean that they're not interconnected in a way that gives some control of each suit to another wearer. Now none of us can _wear_ another suit and get it to power on, but we could power another one down if, for instance, the wearer were unconscious. We've had to do that before."

"And that's all the control another wearer has…" Scout's mental gears were turning as well. "The program that allows someone's suit to recognize a wearer of another suit… we could use a program like that!"

"Exactly!"

"Think the captain would let us use it?"

"Not that one specifically, but we could write a program that's similar that only recognizes our patterns the way our suits do."

"Okay… but you get to clear that with the captain. When it comes to anything to do with suit technology or the suits' programs, he's pretty particular about what gets used."

~*~*~*~*~

Jon sat down at Mentor's console but didn't start up the hologram.

Jackson had said a few things that were still bothering him.

Putting another person on the team? Yes, there was room for one more, but they had to be careful about who they chose. They worked with a lot of people, but to be on the team itself? To be entrusted with a power suit? To be trusted with the lives of the others? That was not something easily decided. As a team, they had to be able to work with each other, and more importantly, to understand each other. The various backgrounds of the team demanded it.

Yes, Jackson was good at what he did. Yes, he had the experience and the drive to fight Dread, but there was an edge to Jackson that just didn't fit in with the team.

Scout could be irreverent but was never insulting. Hawk could be sarcastic but usually humorous. Jackson hid veiled irreverence behind innuendo and sarcasm, and he didn't seem to care exactly what he said or who he said it to.

Who was he kidding? Jon didn't like the way Jackson talked to Jennifer. He certainly didn't like the way he looked at her or flirted with her in a crass sort of way. That was a game Jennifer had almost no experience playing. Yet there was another factor that put Jackson out of favor -- not a single member of the team would ever have mentioned anything about any conversation they might have overheard between Jennifer and Mentor. That was taboo for them. Jon saw the embarrassment on Jennifer's face when Jackson said what he did. It wasn't just the fact that he had overheard the conversation, it was the fact he blurted out what the conversation was about. There were times when Jennifer felt far behind everyone because of what she didn't know. Having it flung in her face like that, taunting her with it -- it was something that wasn't done on their team.

That kind of behavior would not get him an invitation to join.

Moreover, at the very core of it all, there had to be respect and honesty for the foundation of any team. There had to be an honest trust. Jackson had deceived them, had tricked his way inside – that wasn't an honest meeting and he hadn't been very forthcoming about who he was from the very beginning. True, they all had secrets and no one could fault an individual for that, but when working as a team, each had to know that they could trust the others.

That was what it boiled down to. Trust.

Trust was something that was built over time or circumstance. Each member of the team had a different history, but each had proven their value and worthiness in different ways. Jon had known Hawk all his life. He'd grown up with Mitch and Katie; Joanna had been like a second mother to him. Hawk was like the endearing uncle who was a bit overindulgent but kept him from getting into too much trouble. Jon had met Tank when he was protecting villagers as they moved to a new town. The surprising patience and calm temper of this giant of a man had impressed Jon. He was even more impressed when he saw Tank slam a biomech down with just his fist. Tank insisted on telling Jon that he had been engineered at the Babylon 5 facility before agreeing to join the team. Scout was a young, brilliant computer technician who loved to blow up clickers and Dread facilities. He was living on the fringes, no family, no real home, fighting biomechs on his own with a great deal of success in overriding their programming – not to mention a sense of humor that just didn't stop – there had been no doubt. They needed him on the team. With a smile and a handshake, he was happy to join the team. Then there was Jennifer. She was honest about who she was and what she'd done since the day they found her out in the wilderness. She wanted to atone for her actions even though she hadn't known the truth.

_The day they found her…_

Jon remembered every moment of that day. He remembered the moment when he heard Hawk's voice come over the radio. He remembered the first time he looked into those gray eyes…

_January. _

_Wintertime. _

_The day was a dreary gray. There was no snow falling yet, and very little sunlight shone through ever-present pollution. Winter had them in its icy grip, and there was no expected break in the weather. The cold wind bit through Jon's uniform, sending a shiver through him. He needed to get better cold-weather gear for the team somehow._

_The jumpship had failed on them again. Hawk managed to land near a wooded area so they could have some cover to make repairs, but lately, they spent more hours making repairs than flying. The jumpship wasn't going to last much longer._

"_All finished, Captain," Scout closed the engine cover. "Just needed to recalibrate the sensors. That lightning storm we flew through knocked them off line. Unfortunately, the heating unit is still down. We're just going to have to be cold."_

_Hawk packed up the tools, sighing loudly as he did so. "So we're ready to go?"_

"_As ready as we can be," Scout told him. "This old ship has more problems than we can fix. We need to get a new one."_

_Tank walked into the ship. "You find out where we can find a new ship, and we'll go get it."_

_Jon shook his head. "Right now, it's the only one we've got, and as long as it's still flying, we're stuck with it. Let's get this patrol over with and get back to the base where it's warm."_

_Hawk sat in the pilot's seat, trying to get the jumpship to lift off carefully. The ship jerked and jumped as if it wasn't happy to be back in the air. Scout was right. They needed a new ship. This one was ready for the scrapheap. "Sector four, coming up in two minutes," Hawk announced, his voice showing the strain of flying the faulty ship. _

_Scout listened to the comm system, trying to differentiate between what was normal static and what could be enemy communications. Something was going on…_

"_I'm picking up partial signals from biomechs," he said. "Something about tracking someone… heading them off… last bit sounded like the word surrounding."_

_Jon turned to Tank. "Anything?"_

_Tank adjusted a control on his console, "I'm picking up a life sign in the woods. Clickers advancing on his position."_

"_Any sign of another patrol?" Jon asked._

"_None. Sensors are picking up weapons fire."_

"_Good enough reason for us to check it out. Hawk, take us as close as you can."_

_Jon saw Hawk eyeballing the area. "We'll have to set down in a clearing. I'll fly in, you guys use skybikes."_

_As soon as they landed, Hawk took off in the general direction of the commotion. Within a few minutes, the rest were in the air trying to find the person. Eventually, Jon heard Hawk's voice come over the radio._

"_Jon, she's holding off the clickers. Get here fast!"_

_She?_

_They flew over the dead treetops toward Hawk, seeing clickers advance toward a spot in front of them –_

_Then Jon saw the individual in question. She was behind a fallen log, firing repeatedly on the biomechs as they made their way slowly up the rocky terrain. Hawk was standing behind her, guarding her back and destroying the biomechs as they broke cover._

_Simultaneously, Jon, Tank and Scout swooped in and gave Hawk cover fire, flying further over the woods and demolishing every mechanical monster they could target._

_Just as they finished off the last biomech, Hawk's voice sounded over the radio. "Jon, she's one of Dread's soldiers. Bring a med kit. She's hurt."_

_They landed nearby, and Jon saw one of the most surprising sights he'd ever seen. The girl was leaning against a fallen log, holding her side where she'd been shot, looking as if she could fall over unconscious at any moment. One quick glance at her gun showed that she had no rounds left. She was fighting to the last of her ammo and the last of her ability. She was defenseless and in the presence of the enemy – at least, the enemy from a Dread soldier's perspective. She seemed to be trying to back away from Hawk but just didn't have the strength to move. Jon could see that her soggy, ragged uniform was that of a Dread Youth, but the gray eyes he looked into were not the hateful eyes of a Dread-raised soldier. They showed pain, fear, confusion, uncertainty – it was a look Jon had seen countless times by survivors of the wars, but never in the eyes of a Dread Youth._

_No Dread Youth had ever broken the training or the conditioning. How was she out there? Why was she being chased by clickers? There was something unique about the girl._

_Hawk was kneeling near her, not touching her, not approaching her. He stood and walked over to Jon. "The only thing I've found out so far is that she ran here from the north." _

_The north? He thought about the geography in that area. That meant she had crossed a river – which was why her uniform was wet -- and climbed up rocky terrain, the incline lasting maybe over a mile? Her clothes were ragged and torn, certainly not thick enough to protect her from the winter cold. "Do we know who she is?" Jon asked._

"_Not yet. Bring the med kit?"_

_Jon handed the Hawk the small box and watched as the older man returned to the place where he had been and powered down his suit._

_Scout walked up beside Jon and whispered, "That's not just a soldier's uniform. Look at the emblems. She's with the leadership. Maybe a youth leader."_

_A youth leader? Being chased by biomechs? The very ideas were diametrically opposed. "Let's see if Hawk can get her talking," Jon whispered back. _

"_Hey," Hawk said, his voice as friendly as possible, "I know you don't know us… I'm Hawk, by the way. Well, I'm called Hawk. That's my call sign. My real name is Matt Masterson."_

_The girl – no, it was a woman – looked at Hawk as if not understanding his words. Then she looked at Jon. He saw her eyes – the gray eyes of a Dread Youth soldier – only they looked scared and tired. She understood the words. What she didn't understand was the intent. Of course! Jon wanted to slap his head. She was Dread Youth; they were Resistance. They were supposed to be enemies, and it was well known that the Dread Youth didn't aid the enemy. Why would an enemy help her? _

_In an uncertain move, Jon powered down his suit as well, an action that surprised the woman. He could see her shivering – sometimes, Jon knew he was a complete idiot, and this was one of those times. It was wintertime, she had swam through a polluted river and fought off biomechs, she was going to freeze. Immediately, he removed his coat and very slowly moved near her, but not too close to her. "It's cold, and you don't have a coat. You need this." He held his coat out toward her and waited, letting her decide whether or not to take it._

_She seemed to consider them one by one, sized them up mentally, and for whatever reason, she reached out and took the coat. Her hands were torn and bloody, shaking from the cold, from her wounds, probably from the adrenaline rush of the battle. What Jon did notice is that her eyes never left him. He helped her wrap the coat around her shoulders, but every muscle in her body was tense, as if she was expecting an attack from them._

_Okay. Now what?_

_Hawk hadn't moved. She hadn't indicated in any way that she was going to let them near her. Maybe introductions were in order? Jon pointed toward Hawk. "Well, you've met Hawk. He's our pilot when we can get that flying junk pile of ours in the air." He saw her glance warily back toward Hawk. "The big guy behind me is Tank, the fellow on my left is Scout, and I'm Jon." Her eyes returned to him. _

"_You're Captain Power?" she asked, her voice unclear by disuse._

_At least she knew who they were. "Yes, I am. Can you tell us your name?"_

_She seemed to debate whether to answer or not, then in her tired, hoarse voice, she said, "Jennifer Chase."_

_Jennifer Chase. They were making progress._

"_Hello, Jennifer," Hawk spoke quietly in his most dad-like voice. "Look, you're hurt. You've been shot, and you've got a lot of exposed wounds… scratches… you're bleeding pretty badly. They need to be tended to or they'll get infected. If you'll let me, I'll do what I can to help."_

_She was still unsure of them – and why wouldn't she be? Jon didn't think that Dread taught his soldiers anything about trusting people._

"_Why?" she asked, her voice strained and hoarse._

"_Why what?" Hawk wanted to know._

"_Why would you want to help me?"_

_Hawk smiled at her. "One reason is because you need help. You're hurt."_

"_I don't deserve any help," she whispered. _

_Why would she think that? _

_Jon heard something – it was her stomach growling. That was when he took a good look at her. Her eyes seemed sunken with dark circles under them. Her lips were dry and cracked. Her clothes weren't just torn and ragged – there were holes worn in areas from hard, recent abuse. Exposed skin was scratched and bleeding -- whoever this Jennifer Chase was, however she got this far away from any hint of civilization, she had gone through the ringer._

_Jon took his water bottle from his belt and handed it to her. "Here you go. It's water," he told her. "Sip it slowly."_

_It could have been ambrosia from the gods given the look on her face when she took her first sip. She hadn't had water in a while. _

"_Why do you think you don't deserve any help?" he asked, noting that she would be unconscious in minutes from the blood loss where she had been shot. _

_She took a deep breath – Jon could tell that it hurt her. It was possible she had injured her ribs. "I've done some unforgiveable things," she said. "You should have let the biomechs have me. It would have been a fitting punishment."_

_Punishment? "What do you mean?"_

_When Jennifer looked at Jon again, there were tears in her eyes. A Dread Youth that could cry? Was that possible? "I was at Sand Town," she told him._

_Sand Town. She didn't have to explain that, but Sand Town was attacked weeks earlier._

"_How long have you been out here?" he asked._

_She shook her head. "I don't know," her voice was strained and hoarse. "I escaped after Sand Town."_

_Escaped, not ran away, not sent away. Escaped. _

_She'd been out in the wilderness that long? No wonder she was in the shape she was in. She would have had to have a fire to keep warm at night since her clothes were definitely not suited to do so. The wood in the area didn't burn easily or long. But food? Water? How had she survived?_

"_Jennifer," Hawk opened the med kit and showed it to her. "Will you let me look at those wounds? You need help."_

_She was utterly confused. "You still want to help me? Even knowing what I am?"_

_This time, Jon answered her. "That's part of what we do. We help people."_

That was their first meeting. Odd questions, stilted answers, guarded looks and complete confusion. Hawk assured him that part of her confusion was exhaustion, exposure, lack of food and water and the fact she was wounded and ill. Even with a low-grade fever, she had fought the biomechs. She had used the last of her energy fighting the clickers; so much so that she had no energy left to stay conscious for much longer after their initial conversation.

They took her to a mobile medical facility operated by a friend of theirs, Doctor Greta Royston. That was their first indication of just how stubborn Jennifer was. She almost died within those first 24 hours, but Greta pulled her through.

"_It wasn't me," Greta told Jon. "It was her. She pretty much refused to die even after all that."_

"_What can you tell us about her?" Jon asked._

"_A youth leader who found out the truth," was all Greta told him. She refused to elaborate. The rest, the team had to learn on their own._

If Greta hadn't been able to save her, if Jon had never had a chance to get to know Jennifer…

Gaining Jennifer's trust hadn't been easy. Over time, as more and more details of her life became known, the team learned just how precious that trust was. Soldiers trusted each other, family members trusted each other, but the Dread Youth never trusted, never cared about another human being, never placed their lives in the hands of others. It was something Jennifer had to learn, so was it any wonder that once you had proven yourself to Jennifer, once you had earned her trust, you had it for life? She did not give her trust easily or willingly, and to earn it was one of the highest prizes life could bestow.

That trust they built between the five of them had one very strong foundation stone: honesty. Jennifer had been lied to all her life, so honesty meant more to her in a way the others couldn't appreciate. If someone was deceitful, then trust was lost.

It was that simple and that complex.

That reverence for honesty and sacred trust meant Jon was not going to 'eavesdrop' on any of the conversations between Mentor and Jennifer. He wasn't going to intrude on her privacy. Yet what Jackson said… it concerned Jon. Life was full of mysteries the human race was still discovering, but he didn't want life to be an unknown mystery to Jennifer. Mentor was a good technical guide for some of it; however, should there ever be a need to explain something that Mentor's more computerized view didn't fully clarify, maybe knowing the topics they were discussing but not the content would help.

Jon quietly checked Mentor's logs. There were a lot of conversations logged between him and Jennifer, starting almost as soon she had joined the team. Parental love, friendship, sibling rivalry, pets, possession of items and the emotions connected with owning inanimate objects – that had to be around the time Hawk had told her about people naming their cars -- the topics were widely varied, but then Jon noticed the time signature on the files. They coincided with their missions. Something had happened or something had been said on a mission that she didn't understand and she came to Mentor for a deeper explanation of the 'technical details.'

Chess, poker, holidays, birthdays… birthdays? Again, he noted the date. It was about four months after she had joined. Hawk's birthday. Jon remembered – Jennifer had seemed a bit confused, she even seemed a bit dismissive about it when Scout asked her when her birthday was. She said that she didn't know and she'd never seen any reference to her birthday or even her age. Right then and there, Scout declared that the day they found Jennifer would be her birthday since she didn't know when it was. After all, he said, everyone has to have at least one birthday a year.

He kept reading. The topics ranged from the deeply philosophical to the merely mundane.

"Can I help with anything, Captain?" Mentor's voice asked.

Jon pressed a button and the hologram appeared. "No, thank you, Mentor. I was just curious about something."

"May I ask what?"

"Our intruder, Jackson, made a comment and I was investigating the truth of it." Jon waited a second, then asked, "Mentor, I don't want to pry into any of Jennifer's conversations with you, they're private, but do you ever get the impression that she might need to discuss a topic with another human and not a computer?"

"I believe there are a few subjects that she would gain more perspective if speaking with someone who has experienced them; however, I believe she is curious about the definitions of such subjects before wishing to experience them herself."

That made sense. She wanted to test the waters before jumping in the deep end.

"Other discussions are clarifications or explanations of daily activities or conversations she's experienced but has no context in which to understand them."

"So much had to be new to her when she first left the Dread Youth," Jon muttered, mostly to himself.

"Indeed, it was," the hologram agreed. "When you first brought her here so she could recover from her escape from the Dread Youth, we discussed many topics. I suggested reading certain books that depicted various subject matters we discussed. I believed reading would be a method that would help her relate situations to characters in a much more emphatic way that went beyond our discussions."

"And she does love to read," Jon said. "I wish we had more books."

"Corporal Chase did mention that herself not long ago," Mentor told him. "Her birthday is in a few months. I understand that personal possessions were not allowed in the Dread Youth, so I believe that giving her several books of her own would be a welcome gift."

Jon could only smile at that -- Mentor wanted to give Jennifer a birthday present.

"Finding books isn't always easy, Mentor."

"Unfortunately, the books that Corporal Chase has shown a recent interest in reading are not in my databanks. However, I have perused some databases that are not connected to any of Lord Dread's computers. I have found one of the books and downloaded it. It is still in binary form. I wish this to be a surprise, so I am only using minimal power and a small amount of storage space to translate it."

"We don't have any paper to print it out on or any way to bind a book," he pondered.

"I believe that we could manufacture the necessary material from resources now available to us. I have performed an analysis of existing and obtainable materials." Words appeared on the monitor, and Jon immediately recognized that all were materials discarded in the cities and towns. They would be very easy to get.

"How much would you need, Mentor? When?"

The image appeared to think for a moment. "I have no data to establish a time line or a quantity required. However, if you were to collect a few samples of these items, I could process them into paper and binding and ascertain how much would be needed."

Simple enough.

"Mentor, you do know that a birthday present is to be a surprise, correct?"

"Of course, Captain. That's why I am translating one book and looking for others using very little power or storage space so Corporal Chase will not see any anomaly in any of my files when running routine diagnostics."

Sneaky hologram!

"May I ask about the intruder? Was he dealt with sufficiently?"

Even Mentor wanted to know about him. "We helped him rescue his partner and let them both go."

"Is this wise?"

Jon had been asking himself that question all day long. "I hope so. He honestly thought that by breaking in to the base, it would impress us enough to put him on the team."

Mentor seemed to consider that statement. "Would he have been an asset to the team?"

Asset? Well, maybe if Mentor dropped the last two letters… "He's a demolitions expert, but I honestly don't think we could trust him as a team member. He didn't seem to understand that there are some lines you don't cross. We might have blown up the base, might have lost everything because of what he did. And what he said? He was… he said things he shouldn't have."

"Such as his comment that roused your curiosity of the topics Corporal Chase and I discuss?"

Jon nodded his head. "Yeah, that. I know you and Jennifer talk about a lot we take for granted and don't even think needs explaining, but Jackson overheard something in particular. I don't want Jennifer put on the spot again like she was today. It made her uncomfortable."

"I believe that is why Corporal Chase talks with me about many topics."

And it was hard to be uncomfortable around a computer that did not judge or embarrass.

"I suggest we no longer discuss this, Captain. Corporal Chase is approaching."

Jon looked up as Jennifer walked into the room. "Captain, Scout and I may have another way to secure the jumpship."

"Good. How difficult will it be to implement it?"

"That depends," she said, then paused.

Ah. "Depends on what?"

"We'd like to incorporate a program that allows the jumpship to identify us the same way our suits recognize another wearer, at least to power off."

Jon sat back and thought about it. It was so simple, it was ingenious. "How difficult will that be to load?"

"We have to write it first," she said as she sat down at the console and looked up at the hologram. "It should work on Mentor's security arrays if we can get it working. We use the same basic concept but not the same program. If we use the buffer programs that Scout and I have installed as the –"

"Jennifer, wait," Jon interrupted her, "I wouldn't understand the technical details. Let me just ask you this. Will this program keep someone like Jackson from sneaking on board the jumpship again the same way?"

Jennifer smiled and nodded her head. "If it works? Yes."

"Then do it."

Jennifer seemed somewhat confused. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he told her. "I know how much you love that jumpship. Anybody breaking into it had better run for the hills. Even we wouldn't do that unless it was absolutely necessary."

"It would mean needing access to part of the program that governs our suits to learn how it works so we could create a program that does something similar only within our buffer system."

Jon nodded his head. "I know. At least, I think I understand. It's a great idea, and besides, I trust you."

Trust – that simple, that complex. In all honesty, there were few people in the world he trusted as much as he trusted her. Jackson thought Jon would make a better explainer than Mentor about love, but how could Jon explain that to her when he needed to find a way to explain it to himself? Jennifer was the only one he wanted to trust with his heart, but no matter what Jackson had overheard, no matter what he had said, the time wasn't right to explain that to anyone but himself.


	13. Chapter 12 The Rose Of Yesterday

**Author's Note:** This tag fought me the entire way. A long story developed when I read the episode synopsis, but it was much too long and involved for an episode tag and didn't match the Afterwards formula. In order to solve that problem, I decided to write two stories: the Jon/Jennifer tag for the Afterwards series (told from the perspective of others) and a separate story detailing more of what happened to Tank. This tag is also a segue that will bring in concepts and characters that I'll need in the tags for the later episodes. Silly plot bunnies – they just won't stop making up stories, will they?

**Episode 12 - The Rose of Yesterday**

Since this was a never-televised episode, we can only guess at what the actual episode would have been like. This particular version is purely my own imaginings.

_In an effort to destroy all remaining books, Dread orders his troops to burn city after city. The Power Team races against time to evacuate the residents of a particular town when Tank is seriously wounded. He takes refuge in the library and must depend on the librarian to save his life. The problem: not only is the librarian refusing to leave her books, she is refusing to leave until her husband and son return._

~*~*~*~*~

Doctor Greta Royston sighed as she patched up another wounded soldier in the medical tent. Since she earned her medical degree, she had worked in all manner of battle situations, in all kinds of places and all types of weather. It was part of the job as a Resistance doctor – on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. No rest for the weary -- that was the Resistance doctor's motto.

Dread's latest offensive had forced Greta's medical teams to work around the clock for over a month. The stream of wounded settlers and soldiers seemed never-ending so extra medical stations were set up in tents outside the main hospital to help handle the overflow.

Day after day, subsisting on fake coffee and meager snacks, Greta took her turn in triage, the exam room, the operating room, the emergency room – after a week of being indoors, she was eager for her shift in the medical tents. Being outside allowed her to breathe… just a little.

Too bad that she would be working inside again the next day. Reports from the outer stations stated that more refugees and patients would be arriving, and the routine would start all over again. She was going to take advantage of the fresh air while she could.

Greta tied off the last stitch in her patient's shoulder. "There, see? That didn't hurt at all."

"Depends on who you ask," her rather comical patient told her. "Needles hurt, you know. Where'd you go to medical school, anyway, Doc? The Marquis de Sade University?"

"As a matter of fact, that was my alma mater." Very little in Greta's life made her smile, but the annoying, irreverent, pain-in-the-butt that called himself Andy Jackson did give her the occasional grin. Sometimes, she could return the sentiment. "Want to know where I interned?"

"Ha ha," Andy responded. "Any word on Jim?"

That was the point where everything annoying, irreverent and remotely infuriating about Andy Jackson flew out the window – his partner. He and Jim Mitchell would walk through fire for each other. Greta had tended to their wounds on more than one occasion, most of them inflicted when one partner was rescuing the other since neither one of them could stay out of trouble. They weren't just partners or military buddies; they were true friends. In the post-Metal War world, trust and friendship was a rare commodity. To see it still exist reinforced Greta's hope that there was a future for the human race. "He'll be all right. We just want to keep him under observation for a while. Concussion, sprains, being shot – good thing you got him here as quickly as you did."

"Yeah, but maybe not quick enough," Andy said as he put his shirt back on. "He could've been killed because I screwed up. Got caught by those clickers and he had to rescue me."

The anger and worry in Andy's voice was nothing new. If she didn't say something quickly, Andy would blame himself for Jim's injuries instead of realizing that it was a typical outcome from fighting Dread's troops. "And how is that any different from the time you went after him at that research lab and _you_ got shot?" Greta countered.

Andy thought for a second, took a breath, thought about his answer, blew out the air and then stared at Greta. "Ya know, Doc, you're one of those folks who has a very bad habit of arguing logically," he grinned.

"Really? Annoying? I always thought that it was a good habit to have," Greta countered with a grin.

"Doctor Royston!" someone shouted for her from outside.

Greta rushed toward the tent flap just as Wesley, a medic, rushed inside. "Doctor Royston! We just got an emergency transmission from Captain Power. He's coming in with two wounded, one serious."

Power's team? Wounded again? "Get E.R. One ready –"

"Casualties from Thurston are coming in, too. They're maybe two or three hours out. A lot of wounded, don't know how bad though."

"How many's a lot?" Greta asked him.

"Power couldn't give us numbers. He just said a lot," Wesley told her quickly.

Greta shook her head in frustration and sighed. "Has the supply convoy arrived yet?"

"Not yet. They're still half a day out."

No new supplies. "How do the stores look?"

"I did a quick inventory about an hour ago. We don't have enough supplies for a prolonged O.R. session much less the wounded from an entire town."

Andy raised his hand. "If you need someone to make a run to the convoy, I'll volunteer. They know me."

Greta thought for a moment. She mentally ticked off their situation. _Too many patients had stressed their resources past their limit. More were coming. They were short-handed. Time was in short supply. All their transports were damaged. _

They were in trouble.

Looking at Andy, she said, "We'll have to find a transport first. Ours were hit in the last attack. We've got no choice but to make do with what we've got until we can arrange to get the supplies here."

Greta took a deep breath and instructed Wesley in the what-was-now routine emergency procedures. "Tell the other doctors to keep the anesthesia for the most severely wounded and use a local for others. Some will have to go without. Get anyone who's not unconscious to help in any way they can. We'll need cots, clean bandages and bed linens. Check our blood supply. If the wounded need transfusions, we'll need donors." She heard a familiar engine's roar, looked out the tent flap and saw the Power Team jumpship fly overheard. Greta rushed out of the tent, followed closely by both Andy and Wesley as the jumpship came in for a landing just beyond the hospital. By the look of the hull, the ship had been through some serious fighting. The engine was running rough, gears grinding and braking thrusters protesting as she touched down.

"Jennifer must have pitched a fit when she saw what the Dreadheads did to her ship," Greta muttered. "The way she babies that thing…" she stopped talking when she saw Hawk and Scout carry an unconscious Tank out of the jumpship. "Wesley, get a stretcher. Fast!" Greta ordered as she ran toward the newcomers.

Tank. Unconscious. The two words just didn't go together. The man was a fighting machine made of the sturdiest material she'd ever seen.

Greta almost stopped in her tracks when she saw the captain carrying an unconscious Jennifer from the jumpship, fear and worry practically radiating from his eyes.

"What happened?" she shouted as they placed both patients on the ground so Greta could perform a cursory examination.

Hawk stood up, placed a hand on his sore back. "We evacuated Harrington and Bendale well ahead of the Dread forces and got them to safety. We reached Thurston after the clickers showed up. We had to fight while the townspeople evacuated. Tank got hurt during his recon and took cover in the library. The lady there didn't want to leave, but she helped Tank, and he finally convinced her that staying was a bad idea."

Greta checked Tank's vitals. She didn't like what she was seeing. "Shot, beaten, signs of trauma… looks like a building fell on him." She motioned for the medics running toward them. "Okay, get him inside. He gets priority!" she yelled as they ran towards them. "Get him to O.R. One. Get Doctor Peterson to prep him for surgery." She quickly moved to Jennifer. Her condition wasn't quite as serious. "What happened to her?"

"She was ambushed at the docks by a squad of clickers," Jon explained. "We couldn't reach her until Tank radioed us a different way to the docks. The lady helping him told him about it."

That made sense. "The lady in the library, was it Rose?"

"You know her?" Jon asked, not leaving his place beside Jennifer.

Greta noticed Jon's proximity, noticed how worried he was about Jennifer, how he needed to keep physical contact with her – apparently something had changed between them in the last few months. "Yeah. Her husband was killed during one of Dread's early raids and she lost her son, Jason, about the same time. She lives in her own little world and believes that her family will come back one day. She would fight anyone trying to make her leave."

Scout stood back, out of the way of the other medics. "I think that's what she did," he said to Greta. "Tank told us he was trying to convince her to get out but she was putting up an argument."

Greta checked Jennifer's pupils. She was showing signs of a concussion. Thankfully, her wounds weren't as bad as Greta first thought. She looked up and saw Andy Jackson standing nearby, out of the way. Given the last time Andy and the Power Team met, this little "reunion" could be interesting. Then, Greta had an inspiration. "Andy, I may be able to take you up on your offer sooner than I thought I would," she said.

That was when Jon, Hawk and Scout realized that their intruder was standing nearby. "Jackson?" Power said his name, the tone of his voice indicating that he didn't believe the man was there.

"Captain," Andy tipped his hat to Jon. "Me and my partner had a couple of cuts and scrapes we had to get cleaned up. Doc's the best sawbones in the business."

Greta moved so the medics could pick up Jennifer and place her on a stretcher. "Get her into the exam room. Have Eva get a workup." Greta took a good look at the three men still standing, at least standing for the moment. They looked like something the cat dragged in, dragged back out again and then buried in the back yard. All were bruised and bloody. Scout was holding his shoulder – it was probably dislocated or sprained. Hawk's clothes were singed. Jon looked like he had gone ten rounds with a biodread. "You three have seen some action too. Get inside; get these wounds taken care of. No need for you guys to be falling down unconscious." Then, to Jon, "Our convoy is late. Andy volunteered to get the supplies here. Our transports are out of commission at the moment. Can we use your jumpship to meet the convoy?"

Jon put up his hands and shook his head. "We'll go meet the convoy, but that's Jennifer's jumpship. This is the intruder who sneaked into it. If I let him near it –"

"Jennifer would never forgive me for asking or you for allowing it," Greta finished for him. She moved closer to Jon and said in a low voice, "I know you think he's a security risk, I don't blame you, but the convoy leader knows Andy. They've worked together before. I need every one of my people here when the wounded start arriving and the convoy chief won't give up the supplies to anyone else. You know me, Jon. I only worry when I have to, and letting Andy go with you for this reason isn't something that worries me."

Jon shook his head and thought for a moment. Finally, he sighed. "All right, he can go, but I'm flying the jumpship."

"No, I will," Hawk suggested. "You need to be here when the townspeople get here."

Greta thought that reasoning was a bit suspect. The townspeople? Did Hawk think that anyone would believe that explanation? Greta noticed that Andy wisely said nothing but he did shuffle his feet. Apparently, Andy knew there was more to that little statement just as she did.

"I don't think they need --" Jon protested.

"Jon, I'm a better pilot than you when it comes to flying the jumpship. You know Jennifer doesn't let just anyone in the pilot's seat."

Greta refused to snicker or smile at that comment. Given how much trouble the team would be in for letting Jackson on board, they would be in even more trouble if anyone but the best available pilot flew the ship.

"Captain," Scout moved closer to Jon to whisper, "Jennifer and I did upload a few extra fail-safes. Just in case."

"Uh, can I say something?" Andy got their attention. "I promise – no tricks, no stunts, no shenanigans, no computerized gadgetry of any kind. I just want to get those supplies and get them back here."

Jon finally nodded his head. Nothing more needed to be said, apparently.

~*~*~*~*~

Greta walked into the O.R. prep room where Doctor Peterson was scrubbing up. "How's Tank?" she asked as she watched the operating team preparing Tank for surgery.

"His vitals aren't good," Peterson answered. "We can't wait to operate. Do we know what happened yet?"

"All I know is that they fought the clickers in Thurston, and something about Rose refusing to leave."

Peterson grabbed a towel and dried his hands. "Rose? The librarian? Oh… she wouldn't have left those books behind for anything."

"She had to choose between books or people's lives. That had to be a heart-wrenching decision for her," Greta observed.

"Is she okay?" Peterson asked as he walked toward the operating room doors.

"I don't know. The townspeople haven't arrived yet, and there hasn't been time for any storytelling. Look," Greta got very serious, "Hawk and Jackson went to meet the convoy, but there's no guarantee they'll get back before the people from Thurston arrive. Supplies are scarce."

Peterson stared at her for a moment, then nodded his head. They both knew the drill. They wouldn't be able to save everyone they might have otherwise. "What about Tank? Do we use extraordinary measures for him if we need to?"

Greta hated that part of the job -- when a friend was under her scalpel and she had to make the life and death decisions. Yet, when supplies were low, when a doctor had to sacrifice a few to save the many… this time, the answer was simple. "Do everything you can," she ordered. "Tank's risked his life too many times for us. I know he'd understand if we couldn't save him because we had to ration supplies, but this is one time we're not making that choice."

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk flew the jumpship at top speed toward the coordinates Andy gave him. The ship lurched repeatedly, maybe from the external damage, maybe from the power fluctuations to the engines, maybe from the ship herself because Jennifer wasn't piloting her. Whatever the reason, Hawk felt like the ship was fighting him.

Hawk patted the console and whispered, "Come on, sweetheart. We need to get the medical supplies. Tank and Jennifer are hurt. Work with me here, okay?" Within a few moments, the ship began to fly more smoothly.

From the co-pilot's seat, Andy asked, "You talk to the ship?"

Hawk cleared his throat. "Yeah. We talk to the ship."

Andy waited a moment. "Does she ever talk back?"

Hawk looked over at Andy, a confused look on his face. "No. She's a ship. It's just that she's _our_ ship."

Andy laughed. "You mean she's your pilot's, and not a single one of you will cross her when it comes to this ship."

Hawk nodded as he kept watch out the window. Finally, just to break the silence, he asked, "How do you know Greta?"

"Met her at the end of the Metal Wars. She was one of the interns at a MASH unit I was sent to. We help her out when we can; she patches us up when we're hurt. It's probably the same story for a lot of people out here."

That was true enough. Greta's history with the Resistance and her attempts at getting medical care to everyone she could over as vast an area as possible were well known. "Good thing we have her," Hawk said. "She's had to take care of us more than once too."

They were quiet again. Then, "Hey," Andy stammered, "last time we met, I said a few things that maybe I shouldn't have."

"_Said?_" Hawk asked, incredulously. "You broke into our _base_. I'd say that was a big something you shouldn't have done."

"Proved my point that I know my stuff, didn't I?" Andy asked him. When he didn't get a response, he said, "Look, I didn't know the whole situation with you guys, and I shouldn't have said a few things that I did to that pretty little pilot of yours. I just didn't know the score."

Hawk wondered at that. "What score?"

"Been hearing some stories. Like your pilot used to be in the Dread Youth, nearly died escaping, joined up with you guys, had to learn about the real world. I guess I didn't exactly win any points with anyone given what I said to her. Or any of you."

That was a very whitewashed version of events, Hawk thought. Not that he was going to put Jackson right. "No, no points," Hawk agreed as he veered the ship slightly west.

"I didn't know anybody ever got away from the Dread Youth."

Hawk had heard that before. "As far as we know, she's the only one."

Andy was quiet for a moment, then, "Just out of curiosity, how does someone who used to be in the Dread Youth join up with one of the best known Resistance groups?"

Hawk looked over at Andy and smiled. "Believe me; every single one of us earned our place on _this_ team."

Maybe Andy got the veiled reference to his 'attempt' to join, maybe he didn't. Hawk didn't really care. He just wanted to get to the convoy, get the supplies and fly them back to the hospital as quickly as he could. The idea that Tank's life could be decided on the amount of bandages or the availability of anesthesia worried him.

"So," Andy tried again, "given that look the captain had on his face when he carried your pilot out of the ship, I'm guessing he's figured things out."

That statement surprised Hawk. "Figured what things out?"

"She likes him, he likes her… you know. _Things._"

_Things?_ Jackson saw _things?_ Hawk's hopes that no one outside the team had noticed what was going on between Jon and Jennifer were dashed. He, Scout and Tank wanted to keep it quiet until Jon and Jennifer figured things out for themselves. Vi had noticed, undoubtedly Greta had noticed… _things, _but Jackson? There could be trouble if others had noticed the growing attraction. It would give Dread another weapon to use against Jon.

The sensor beeped, announcing the convoy coming into range. Hawk would have to worry about Jackson's discovery later.

~*~*~*~*~

Jon sat down for the first time in what felt like days. No, it actually _had_ been days since he could just sit and do nothing, but he wasn't doing _nothing_. He watched Jennifer sleep as the medic, Eva, took her pulse. For the moment, he could breathe easy. Jennifer was alive, Tank was in surgery, the rest of them walked away – they all made it. For that, he was grateful.

Yet the day's events wouldn't leave him. He kept hearing the voices on the radio. Voices overlapped, the words ran together. The stress was evident in their voices.

"_Pilot, Tank, you have biomechs overrunning your positions!"_

"_I'm hit! Armor's gone. They're advancing. I'm at the library."_

"_Pilot's position has been flanked and I think she's wounded."_

"_Captain, there's a woman in the library who won't leave. The biomechs are trying to get in. We'll have to hold them off for now."_

"_I can't reach the library. There are too many clickers in the way."_

"_No one is being left behind. We're all getting out of here alive."_

"_Jon, get to Tank. He's hurt. I'll hold them off as long as I can."_

"_Jennifer? Jennifer, can you hear me?"_

"_Captain, we're leaving the library. Take the alley between the two tool sheds on the north side of the dock to get to Pilot."_

Those were some of the scariest moments Jon had experienced as a team leader. He still couldn't understand what happened. One moment, they were under fire and losing, and then they… weren't. That was the only reason they were all still alive.

Eva wrote down Jennifer's vitals. "She could use a visit to the regenerator, but we've got patients in worse condition waiting in line for that. She's going to have to heal on her own."

"Will she be all right?" Jon asked.

"She's still unconscious, but her vitals are good. Wounds are a little worse than we first thought, but nothing critical. She'll be in a lot of pain when she wakes up. I hope she doesn't have an aversion to scars because she's going to have a few new ones."

Scars. Sometimes, they were a joke amongst the team. There was a game called a scar-off contest they would play, comparing scars and making up stories of how they got them.

Eva left, passing Scout in the doorway.

"How is she?" Scout asked as he looked down on his unconscious friend.

"New scars and bruises and still unconscious but the medic said she'll be fine," Jon told him. "What about Tank?"

Scout sat down on the floor, leaned against the wall and adjusted his arm sling. "He's in surgery. I haven't heard anything more than that yet."

Surgery. Thank goodness for Greta and her hospital. She'd had all of them in her operating room over the years. Jon attributed the fact that they were all still alive to Greta as well. "How are you?"

"Bruises, pulled muscles, sprained shoulder. I'll live. They wanted to give me a shot for the pain, but I told them to forget it. There are others coming who'll need it worse than me. Have you heard anything from Hawk?"

Jon shook his head. "Nothing yet. I think it's too soon, but no news could be good news."

Scout leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Days and days of battles and relocations -- they were all so tired. "Captain, I still don't know what happened in Thurston. We were fighting the clickers, Jennifer's position was being overrun. Tank was shot and in the library with Rose who was refusing to leave. We were outnumbered, outgunned, losing and then everything just turned around for us. Rose decided to leave, she told Tank how to get to Jennifer -- I don't think any of our battles ever worked like that before."

"I don't know, Rob," Jon said tiredly. "I don't know why Rose changed her mind all of a sudden. She was willing to die rather than leave her books, and then she left her library to burn. I don't know if Tank said something or if something happened to convince her to leave… maybe this is one time we just need to be glad it happened and not question it."

"We lost the library," Scout murmured. "Dread got his wish about destroying all the books there."

"We lost the library in Thurston, but we were able to get a lot of people to safety. We saved the libraries in Harrington and Bendale though. More importantly, we were able to save a lot of the people."

Scout crossed his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Dread's wiping out towns in order to destroy books. We could have lost Tank and Pilot… I know we've been trying to salvage as many books as we can but how much are we willing to pay?"

Jon chuckled, but it was a sad sound. "When I was a boy, we had a neighbor who used to say that print was dead. Everything was electronic. Books were nothing more than words on paper. My parents loved books. They didn't like hearing them disparaged like that. I remember my mom saying that even though a book was made up of words on paper, they were much more important than that. Everything was in books. Thoughts, ideas, dreams, opinions, history, literature, everything could be found in those pages. The neighbor couldn't really argue that."

"Yeah, but ideas are in people's heads. Why does Dread think that just destroying books will destroy ideas?" Scout asked.

Jon glanced at Jennifer who was still unconscious. There was no sign of her waking. "Because it works," Jon said. "Remember when we first met Jennifer? There was so much she didn't know. Dread took all that from her by controlling the information the Dread Youth were allowed to have. Do you remember the first time she ever saw a book?"

Scout smiled at the memory. "She had no idea what it was. Then she read every one we had and every story Mentor had stored in his memory banks. She was like a kid in a candy store."

"Candy?" a voice repeated. "That's a word I haven't thought about in years."

Jon and Scout looked up as Greta walked into the room.

"How's Tank?" Jon asked, too tired to stand.

"Still in surgery. I just checked on him. Everything looks good so far." Greta leaned against the wall as she read Jennifer's chart. "Just got a message from Jackson. They've reached the convoy. They should be back with some of the supplies within the hour."

"Good," Jon said. Glancing back at Jennifer, he said, "What about the rest of us?"

Us? Greta raised an eyebrow at that. Jon wasn't that good at hiding his feelings. He wanted to know about Jennifer.

"Jennifer's half-unconscious, half-exhausted. I'm thinking you five haven't slept in days either. She was hurt and knocked out, and her exhaustion put her in a deeper stage of unconsciousness than she would normally be in. Ordinarily, I'd put her in a regenerator, but I've got some seriously wounded patients using it. Scout's shoulder will be fine, but he could use about fifteen minutes in the regenerator as well. Make sure both of them take advantage of yours when you get back to your base. Hawk had essentially more superficial wounds, nothing serious but painful, and you're bruised up a bit, again, nothing serious. My guess is that all of you are going to be sore for a few days, but you're all walking away from this one intact."

"Small favors," Scout said, his voice sounding tired.

Greta smiled. "We take what we can get."

She noticed Jon trying to gather up some strength to move, but just sitting and doing nothing seemed like a gift. "Is there anything else we can do?" he asked Greta.

"No, not right now. We've prepared as best we could," Greta stood up reluctantly, loathe to leave her leaning position but knowing she had to. "Sensors show we have a large group heading our way. Hawk and Andy should get back just before the newcomers arrive. And speaking of Thurston, what happened at the library?"

Jon forced himself to stand up for a moment. Maybe if he moved, the lethargy and fatigue would go away. "We don't know. We'd separated, were communicating over the radios, Tank told us he was hurt and found Rose in the library but that she refused to leave. Jennifer's position was being overrun. Hawk and I tried to get to her, Scout was closer to Tank, and then Tank told us that they were leaving, heading for the jumpship and for us to get Jennifer by going down a hidden alley that would let us get around the clickers."

Greta listened, but Jon noticed a confused look in her eye. "Rose left her books voluntarily? That's a new one. Clickers or not, it would take a crowbar to pry her out of there."

"Why?" Scout asked. "She would have died if she stayed there."

Greta didn't seem surprised by the question. "Rose loves books. She lives for books. She can quote some of the most obscure references you ever heard of. She was the librarian before the Metal Wars. Her husband, Thomas, worked at the power plant. Their home was destroyed in one of the initial attacks, so they lived in the library after that. One day, Thomas went out to look for food but he never came back. Their son, Jason, went to look for him. He didn't come back either. It turns out that there were some biomech squads in the area."

Maybe Jon was more tired than he thought. It took a few moments for the son's name to register. "Wait, did you say the son's name was Jason?"

"Yeah. He was her only son. She never thought they were dead. She always believed that they'd come back, and she'd wait there for the rest of her life for her family to come home."

Scout asked, "So Rose wasn't just protecting books, was she?"

"No," Jon answered. "She was protecting a memory." Then, to Greta, "How old would her son be now?"

Greta thought for a moment. "About your age, I think. He was a teenager when he disappeared. Why?"

"A few months ago, I met a man named Jason who was with the Dread Youth. He was masquerading as me, leading people into a trap so they could be digitized by Soaron."

That made Greta get her second wind. "Are you thinking that the Jason you met and Rose's son could be the same person?"

"I don't know," Jon explained quickly. "If he was really in the Dread Youth, he didn't look like one of them. Besides, Dread would have changed his name as a way of separating him from his true identity. He did that with his other soldiers."

"He changed their names?" Greta asked. "Interesting. Then the man you met wouldn't have been Rose's son."

"Unless he wasn't a typical Dread Youth…" Jon thought for a moment. What was it Jennifer had told him about Jason?

"_Then he wasn't raised in the Dread Youth. For whatever reason, __all Dread Youth soldiers fit the same general profile with blonde hair and gray eyes__.__ Your double was probably an older volunteer who worked his way up through the ranks or did something that got Dread's attention and was appointed as an Overunit instead of earning the position."_

"It's possible that the Jason who impersonated me joined Dread's troops when he was older, but I have no way of knowing if he was Greta's son."

Then again, would he ever know? How had Jennifer explained it when they discussed the Dread Youth?

"_He took away everything that made us an individual. He hid all the records of our identities, our names, our birthplaces – all of it was buried in the computer files. There was even some reference to some possible genetic changes, but I couldn't find anything out about that."_

_That was information Jon had never considered. "So none of the Dread Youth would know who they really were or where they came from even if they found the archives." Then, another thought crossed his mind. "Does that mean that Jennifer Chase isn't your real name?"_

"_I don't think it is. At least, it isn't according to the data archives. I searched for Jennifer Chase as well as the names of a few other youth leaders and overunits I knew. None of them were there. The names that were listed in the file had complete histories -- who they were, where they were born, their full names – but I had never met any of them."_

If any Dread Youth soldier who was raised in Volcania had their name changed, that didn't necessarily mean that others who joined later or who were older underwent the same process.

That meant that the man impersonating Jon, the man Jon gave up to Soaron, could be the son of the woman who saved Tank's life.

Irony was cruel.

"Let's hope he wasn't Rose's son," Greta said as she put Jennifer's chart back, " and it might be a good idea if no one mentions it to Rose." Greta looked at both of them with an appraising eye. "Look, guys, neither one of you will be any help to anyone if you're falling down exhausted. Get some sleep. I know we're crowded, but there are a few blankets and pillows somewhere, and there's plenty of floor space in some of the rooms –"

"Maybe you need to take your own advice," Jon suggested, smiling for the first time in days. "How long has it been since you slept?"

Greta laughed and shook her head. "Too long, and I'm not getting any sleep any time soon. Like our motto says, there's no rest for the weary," she said as she walked out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~

"All right, let's close," Doctor Peterson instructed his surgical team. Looking at the face of the unconscious man, he said, "Well, Tank, looks like you're lucky. This time."

One of the medics began collecting the surgical instruments and tossed them in the sterilizing solution. "I thought their power suits protected them from being hurt too bad."

"Nothing's full-proof," Peterson answered. "A strong enough blast focused on a particular area – it could really do some internal damage. It's just that they can take a powerful beating and still keep walking." Then, to another medic, "Go tell Captain Power that Tank came through with flying colors and we're moving him to Recovery."

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk yawned, tried to shake his head to get rid of the fatigue. He shouldn't be flying, he knew that, but he was also the only one in any condition to fly the jumpship. The others were hurt too badly to cater to the temperamental craft.

Good thing Jackson had kept him alert by talking the entire way back.

Good thing Jackson understood that he needed to keep talking the entire way back to help keep Hawk alert.

That didn't mean he wasn't annoying.

"Hospital just ahead," Hawk announced as he steered the ship lower and prepared to land. He could land, get off the ship, unload the supplies, maybe get some sleep…

Jackson glanced back at their cargo. There were a lot of crates in the hold. "Think we beat the folks from Thurston?"

"Barely," Hawk indicated motion on the horizon. Hundreds of people were moving toward the hospital. "Greta's going to have her hands full for the next few days."

"She'll need help," Andy surmised needlessly. "Good thing my dance card's empty."

"We haven't heard anything about Tank yet," Hawk said aloud without meaning to.

"No news is good news, right?" Andy asked.

"Let's hope so."

Just as Hawk landed, Andy made a suggestion. "Hawk, I should probably apologize to your captain, but do you think I should maybe, you know, apologize to that your pilot in person? Would she even listen to me?"

Hawk slowly turned his head toward Jackson. One thing he was certain of – Jon wouldn't want Jackson anywhere near Jennifer, but for an apology? Would Jon let Jackson in the same room with Jennifer?

Then again, was Jackson being sincere or was this just another attempt to worm his way onto the team?

Hawk was saved from answering when someone slammed their fist against the ship's hatch.

"Hawk?" It was Jon.

Hawk opened the hatch. Several people entered and started hauling the crates out of the hold. Jon weaved his way through all the people to the pilot's seat. Hawk knew immediately that Jon hadn't had a catnap either. "Any trouble?"

"None," Hawk told him.

Jackson turned and said, "The convoy got slowed down by some clickers. We could only get about one-third of the supplies. They're bringing in the rest."

Hawk politely ignored his passenger. "How are Tank and Jennifer?"

Jon rested against the console. "Tank just got out of surgery. Doctor Peterson said he'll be fine. Scout's waiting with him in the recovery room. Jennifer hasn't woke up yet. Greta thinks that it's from being unconscious and exhausted. She's not worried."

That was good news.

"Do we know what happened in Thurston yet?" Hawk asked him.

"No. We won't know until Tank wakes up."

~*~*~*~*~

CRASH!

Jennifer woke up at the sound. She looked around… where was she?

Old paint peeling off the walls, cracked floor – definitely not the base infirmary. She was at one of Greta's hospitals.

What happened? They'd been at Thurston, she'd been surrounded by clickers, Hawk was flying in, Jon was coming, Tank was hurt badly and trapped at the library, Scout was going to him --

Where was everyone else?

Another crash – it was the sound of metal trays falling. Something was happening out in the hallway. Jennifer tried to sit up – oh, bad idea. The entire room began spinning and her head felt like it was splitting.

A hand suddenly had her shoulder and helped her lie back down. "Hey, don't get up too fast," Jon told her.

Her head sank back down into the pillow. Jon was there. That meant he was alive. Good. "No, getting up is _not_ a good idea," she stressed. "What happened?"

"Our luck turned. We got out of Thurston and made it here. That was –" he looked at his watch, "yesterday."

Yesterday?

She glanced up at Jon. He was bruised up a bit, and he had dark circles under his eyes. He looked exhausted. "What time is it?"

"Almost three in the morning," he told her as he sat back down in the chair. "I've been waiting for you to wake up."

Almost three in the morning? He'd been waiting for her to wake up for hours? Had she been hurt that badly? "What about Tank?" she asked quickly.

"Doctor Peterson said he's going to be fine."

"Good." Jennifer closed her eyes for a moment and willed her spinning, hurting head to stop spinning and stop hurting. She felt Jon's hand on her arm. "How did we get out of Thurston?" she whispered.

"Long story short -- the librarian decided to leave. We don't know why yet. She and Scout helped Tank get to the ship, Hawk and I got you, we escaped, came here, Greta got Tank into surgery, and Doctor Peterson patched him up."

"Everyone else?"

"We'll live," he smiled at her.

Jennifer smiled back at him. Then, she asked, "What about Thurston?"

"The town's gone. It, the library, the books, but most of the people survived. They've been arriving here for the last few hours. We've been helping out where we can, but other than lifting and carrying, I think we're just in the way."

Jennifer's head hurt too much to laugh, but she added, "If they want this room, I'll volunteer to leave early."

Jon took hold of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Later. I'm in enough trouble as it is. Greta would never forgive me if I let anyone leave before she gave us the go-ahead."

That sounded strange. Jennifer looked up at him. "Why are you in trouble?"

Jon cleared his throat. "I, uh, did something you're not going to like. It's not that I wanted to do it, but Greta's back was up against a wall and…well, it seemed like the only solution at the time. I wouldn't have done it otherwise."

He was stalling. That was never a good sign. "Jon?"

Finally, Jon said, "Okay, I let Andy Jackson go with Hawk to pick up the medical supplies from the convoy."

Andy Jackson? He was at the hospital? That didn't make Jennifer happy, but, so far, not bad. "You're in trouble for that?"

"No, not for that," he answered quickly. "The convoy was some miles out and all of the hospital's ships are out of commission, so --"

"Wait, stop right there," she interrupted him. "Please don't tell me you let Jackson on _my_ ship?"

"Hawk flew the ship, and he didn't let Jackson touch the controls," Jon added very quickly. "The convoy chief knew Jackson and would give him the supplies. It really was an emergency situation."

"He broke in last time by –"

"I know," Jon raised a placating hand before taking hers again. "I know. Scout was absolutely certain that the fail-safes you and he loaded in the ship's programming would keep Jackson out if he tried to hack the systems. Also, he promised not to try anything. He has apparently kept our base secret, so…"

"So we had to take the chance," Jennifer finished for him. "But why did it have to be him?" Jennifer muttered under her breath.

"But why did it have to be him?"

Jon smiled at her groan. He couldn't help it. The very idea that Jackson was on board their jumpship, regardless of the reason, didn't sit well with him either. What was that old saying? Needs must when the devil drives? He didn't trust Jackson, probably never would, but time was short, people were hurt and they had no choice.

Still, it was Jackson, and none of them liked or trusted him. His behavior the last time they met was less than gentlemanly. He'd embarrassed Jennifer, and as far as Jon was concerned, that was unforgiveable. No amount of apologies would undo what he did.

Now, if he could just make sure he wasn't in _too_ much trouble and could be forgiven…

"We really had limited options," he confessed. "You know I wouldn't let him anywhere near your jumpship unless I absolutely had no choice."

Her gray eyes stared directly at him, but there was no anger there. She knew. She understood. She would have had to make the same choice, but it was the fact it was _Jackson_ that made the difference.

"Not an easy choice for you, was it?" she asked him.

"No, not really. I don't trust him. Neither does anyone else, but –"

"No choice," Jennifer said. Okay, he was forgiven. "So… how bad are the hospital's ships?"

Interesting change of subject, Jon noticed. "They're shot up pretty bad."

Jennifer closed her eyes for a moment. Her head must still be hurting her. "As soon as I can sit up without the room spinning, I'll see what I can do with them."

There it was, that selflessness that seemed to permeate her character. It was something that Jon admired about her. She would always do for others before even considering herself. "Greta will appreciate that, but she's not expecting you do to anything for a while. She even wants you to spend some time in the regenerator when we get back to the base."

That got her attention. "What about Tank? He had surgery, then –"

"Greta has a line of patients waiting to use the regenerator, but she's pushed Tank up toward the top of the list."

"He was hurt that bad?" Jennifer asked him.

"Yeah," Jon nodded his head, his voice starting to sound more tired than he realized. The day was truly catching up with him. "I think Greta was concerned when she first examined him, but she wasn't worried. You know Greta. She only worries when she has to."

Jennifer scrunched up her forehead as she tried to remember the events at Thurston. "I remember Tank telling us that he was hurt and that the librarian wouldn't leave. I don't remember much else that was said. The fighting was too loud."

Jon couldn't fill in many more gaps. "Tank radioed back that the lady had decided to leave. We have no idea what happened in that library to change Rose's mind."

"Rose?" Jennifer didn't recognize the name.

"That's the name of the librarian. And, I need to ask you something about the Dread Youth."

Jennifer scooted up a little on the cot so her head was pushed up against the headboard. "Okay."

"If someone was brought into the Dread Youth at an older age or someone was captured and brainwashed to be in it, would the caretakers have changed their name?"

"Older?" Jennifer thought for a moment. "How old?"

"Teenager."

"No, they wouldn't have changed their name then. They may have only changed the names of those of us they took at a very young age or those of us who had the right look as far as Dread was concerned. If a teenager was taken, they had an already established identity… changing the name would have been met with resistance. It wouldn't have worked very well. Why?"

Jon ran his hand through his hair. "Rose's husband and son were either killed or taken prisoner by a Dread patrol years ago. Her son's name was Jason."

Jennifer's eyes grew wide in understanding. "Maybe we shouldn't mention that to Rose?"

"That's what Greta suggested," Jon said.

~*~*~*~*~

There were times when Greta hated being a doctor. When she had to tell a patient that there was nothing she could do, when she had to tell a loved one about a sick or dead family member, when she couldn't help someone… but at that moment, nothing could be further from the truth.

At that moment, she liked being a doctor.

She liked having good news. She liked seeing patients smile with relief.

She could even be amused that a patient had healed just enough to be bored.

She knew Tank was bored.

Bored. Boreder. Boredest.

He was intensely bored.

Greta understood it all too well. When lying in a hospital bed, the only break from the interminable boredom was when someone came in to take vitals. Other than that, a patient would do anything to occupy their mind: count cracks in the ceiling, the lines on the floor, the wrinkles in the curtain surrounding the bed…

She could hear Tank counting.

Greta knocked on the door. "Mind if I come in?"

From that smile, Tank had never been so happy to see a doctor in his life. "Please. Do. I would love to talk to someone."

"You'll be having visitors in about five minutes," Greta said as she pulled a chair from behind the curtain nearer to the bed and sat down. "It has been so busy since the people from Thurston started showing up some hours ago. This is the first time I've been able to sit down since they started arriving."

"Busy?" Tank asked.

"Very. In any case, that little trip in the regenerator did a better job on you than I first thought. You'll be out of here by noon today. That means I get rid of all five of you at one time." Greta smiled at Tank's bemused expression. "None of you are good patients, you know that?"

"How are the others?"

"Hurt, bruised, but all will tell the tale," Greta took another look at Tank's chart. "You're the one they've been worrying about. They've been getting hourly updates since you came out of Recovery."

Something she said seemed to get Tank's attention. "How close was it?"

Ah. That question. "It was close. They got you here in time. That's what's important." Greta put the chart back and stood up, her moment of relaxation finished. "So if you're feeling up to it, Hawk and Scout would like to check on you themselves."

And that bit of news truly made Tank happy. "I think I'm feeling fine," he told her.

Tank held his side as he laughed. "The captain told her, right?"

"I wasn't going to," Scout explained quickly. "And Hawk was gone. Seriously, which one of us is brave enough to tell Jennifer that we let _Jackson_ on the jumpship?"

"It's not about bravery," Hawk told them. "It's about self-preservation. Jon can at least stand behind a 'command decision' excuse," he laughed. "But you won't believe this – Jackson apologized for his behavior when we met him."

That stopped Tank from laughing. "He apologized? After everything he said?"

"Yeah. He even asked me if he should apologize to Jennifer personally."

Scout shook his head. "I don't think the captain would want him anywhere near her."

"I don't like the idea much myself," Hawk added. "He might have been telling the truth, then again, he might just be making nice with us to try to get on the team."

"Not a chance," Tank stated. "He's not a team player."

Hawk could only agree. "Could you imagine if he had been with us in Thurston? He may like to beat clickers, but he's out for himself. He wants to be the hero."

"Hero? Center of attention, you mean," Scout corrected him.

Then, Tank turned the conversation back to events that had just happened. "What was the outcome at Thurston?"

Hawk leaned back in his chair. "We helped save most of the people but lost the town."

"And the library?"

"It burned. I don't know if anything is left," Scout told him.

Tank closed his eyes for just a moment. "All those books. That could destroy Rose."

Hawk leaned forward and said in a low voice, "What happened at the library, Tank? How did you convince her to finally leave?"

In an equally low voice, Tank answered, "We could hear everyone talking over the radio. She listened to the captain say he wasn't going to leave any of us behind and that we were all leaving Thurston alive. She listened to Scout's reports about fighting through clickers to get to the library to help me. It was when we heard Jennifer tell the captain to forget her and help me since I was injured that Rose understood what was happening. That's when she realized that none of us were leaving because of her, and that we were in danger because she wouldn't leave."

"That's it?" Scout asked. "There had to be more to it than that."

"There was a little more," Tank continued. "I basically said that the captain wouldn't leave Jennifer behind for any reason, and the longer we stayed there, the greater danger Jennifer was in. The captain could lose her like Rose lost her husband and son. She didn't want that to happen."

And there it was. The semi-secret they shared coming more and more into play in their everyday lives.

"Well, let me toss one more wrench into the works," Hawk kept his voice low in case anyone passed by the room. "Jackson basically said that he knew Jon and Jennifer are starting to figure things out."

Again, they were surprised. Tank sat up just a little. "Jackson knows?"

Hawk nodded his head. "I'm beginning to think that the only two people who don't know are Jon and Jennifer."

~*~*~*~*~

**Noon.**

Greta took her ten-minute break on the second story 'lounge' that looked out over the hospital atrium. Wounded lay in cots all along the walkways, balconies and floor. Those who didn't have cots were lying on pallets on the floor. Luckily, the numbers of the severely wounded from Thurston had been minimal. Most didn't even require surgery.

Overall, they'd been busy, but they were managing the workload.

"Hiya, Doc," Andy Jackson walked up beside her and gazed down at the atrium. "Jim's getting checked out by one of the medics, so we should be out of your hair in a few minutes. Looks like you're losing some more of your patients."

Greta looked toward where he was pointing. The Power Team was standing together. Hawk was giving Tank a strong shoulder to lean on as he walked, Scout was making jokes and Jon was helping Jennifer remain standing. "Yeah, they're healed up enough to go home to their own infirmary."

"They're a strange bunch," Jackson observed. "I don't mean strange 'weird.' They're more like strange 'unique.'"

Greta could only agree. "That they are. That's what makes them work so well together. They… fit."

Andy was quiet for a moment – which was never a good sign. "Doc, I want to ask you something. I know it's none of my business, probably none of yours, but what is it about the captain? I don't get him."

"I get him, but you're right. It's none of our business."

Andy wasn't content to leave it at that. "Aw, c'mon, Doc. What gives? He's got this pretty pilot who likes him and the captain won't even… I mean, if it was me –"

"He's not you," Greta told him.

"I've never had any problem with the ladies. If he needs any advice –"

"Advice?" Greta laughed. "Andy, Jonathan Power is a gentleman. He wouldn't take advantage of the situation, and I know that for a fact because I've known him since he was a teenager."

"I don't mean taking advantage of anything," Andy protested. "I mean… uh, well… look, take it from me, it's not every day a pretty lady is interested in you, you know. If that pilot gave me so much as a wink --"

"_That_ will never happen," Greta told him. "You've got a lot to learn about people, you know?"

"I'm working on it," he told her. "But there's got to be more to those two than the captain just being a gentleman."

"Oh, there is," she agreed.

"So share. What's the story?" he wanted to know.

He was fishing for information but Greta wasn't going to take the bait. "I don't know. I know that neither one of them is impulsive. They're part of a team. He's the superior officer. More importantly, there's a war on," Greta reminded him. "There are a dozen good reasons." Greta thought that maybe the biggest reason was that they had only started to realize what they meant to each other, but she wasn't going to tell Andy that. It was dangerous for people who lived their lives on the front lines to form permanent relationships. "It's a risk, and those two have risky enough jobs as it is. Who needs more danger in their line of work?"

Andy thought for a moment, then his eyes grew wide as if he realized a long-pondered secret. He slapped himself on the side of the head. "No wonder… I mean… Okay, just kick me, will you?"

"What? Why?"

Andy turned around and propped himself up against the window. "When I first met them, I kind of said some things I shouldn't have. I thought I just embarrassed that pilot a bit. I guess what I said hit a little harder than that."

Greta squinted her eyes. "You never did go into the details about that."

"Nope." Andy told her emphatically. "Not going to now either." He turned around and watched the team prepare to leave. "I really screwed up big time when I met them."

"That you did," Greta agreed, "but I don't think you completely screwed up your chances of working with them in the future."

That perked Andy up a bit. "Really? You think?"

"Yeah. I mean, you went on board the jumpship without Jennifer's permission, she knows and you're still standing. Plus you kept your promise about no shenanigans. I'd say that bodes well in your favor."

They watched as a woman approached the team and started talking to Tank.

"Who's that?" Andy asked.

"That's Rose, the librarian from Thurston. She's the one who didn't want to leave when the clickers attacked. I think she might be apologizing for that."

"Think it'll do any good?"

Greta nodded her head. "To that team? Absolutely. I'm sure they understand. Apologies can go a long way -- if they're sincere," she added for his benefit. "And in order to be forgiven, the person you're apologizing to has to believe you. That involves a bit of trust which has to be earned, and understanding why someone did what they did in the first place."

Andy was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Are you saying that they wouldn't believe me if I apologized?"

Greta shook her head. "Right now, no, but let me give you a bit of advice." She looked him in the eye and said, "When you do apologize to the captain and the pilot for what you did, make sure it's for the right reasons and you mean it."

Andy looked down at the group and saw them smiling as they talked with Rose. They seemed to be in a fairly receptive mood. "Think now's a good time?" he asked.

"Don't push your luck."

The End


	14. Chapter 13 Flame Street

_**Author's Note: **__ Flame Street is one of those episodes that left me with a lot of questions and possible plot paths that the plot bunny loves to hop along. I wanted this tag to cover some of the questions that came up as I watched the episode. It's also allowed me to create more breadcrumbs that I've been sprinkling into the stories that I'm hoping to sweep together in a later tag. To be honest, this tag was not easy to write. There is a lot of substance in the episode and I hope I've written a story that is worthy of being called an episode tag, especially to an episode that had so much to offer._

**Episode 13 – Flame Street**

_The team travels to Tech City, the last known bastion of technology, to access the web in the hope that they can find information about Project New Order. The captain 'jacks' himself into the web but finds that dangers inside the mind can be more dangerous and frightening than he bargained for._

~*~*~*~*~

Hawk stirred the spoon around the pot, trying not to let the others' grumbling change his mind.

"I don't know, Hawk," Scout paced slowly back and forth. "I don't think it's a good idea. We might be pushing them too fast."

Tank agreed. "It may not be any of our business."

Scout nodded his head. "We might be doing more harm than good."

Hawk turned around and stared at his two friends. They were right, but then again, so was he. "You saw them at the hospital last month. Jon hardly left her side. Since then, we've been working practically non-stop, and they haven't had a chance to sit, talk – I know for a fact that they haven't played chess in over a month, and that's when they do most of their talking. Besides, Tech City was not one of our better days even if we did get away with our hides and the file. What happened in the web hit too close to home for Jon, and Jennifer was uncomfortable about the entire mission before we went. They need time to process it."

Tank agreed. "We were all uncomfortable in Tech City," he mentioned. "The people there were different from anyone we've worked with."

"You can say that again," Scout said. "I don't think we've ever met anyone like Mindsinger before."

"Some of us haven't," Hawk immediately commented. "I know Jennifer hasn't, but she hasn't said a single word about Mindsinger or how she was acting. That's how she used to behave years ago when something bothered her, and that's not something I want her to start doing again. Lately, she's talking to Jon as well as Mentor about everything. I don't want those lines of communications to dry up."

"We've had one mission after another," Tank reminded him. "Not much time for rest in-between –"

"I know," Hawk agreed completely. "That's one of the reasons I said we needed a night off. Besides, it might be a good idea for_ us_ to arrange a way for _them_ to talk to each other without us around."

Tank chuckled. "You're pushing."

"I'm not pushing," Hawk protested. "I'm just nudging them a little bit."

Both Scout and Tank shrugged noncommittally. "How are you planning on getting them alone together? You know both of them will want to start analyzing the Styx file after supper."

Hawk smiled a big grin. "Just keep an ear out for the announcements and follow my lead at supper. I've got a plan."

~*~*~*~*~

"**Supper's in twenty minutes." **

Hawk's voice sounded louder than usual over the speakers. Definitely louder. Luckily, that small headache Jon had from jacking into the web was almost gone or that loud announcement would have made his ears ring.

He still couldn't believe his bad judgment. What had he been thinking? Jacking into the web? Possibly letting secrets from his mind seep into the system the same way the New Order information had from some of Dread's troops? What if the location of the base was there and Mindsinger could access it? What if security codes lodged in the system? He alone knew the secrets to the power suits. What if --

No. Enough.

He took a deep breath and tried to clear his mind. They had needed that information about Project New Order, so that meant that someone had to jack in to the web. There was no other option. The risks they faced were the substantially negative side effects and the inherent dangers of jacking a live mind into a computer system. Power failures, grid degradation, circuits blowing -- whoever went in could be damaged before they came out. Risking their lives was what they did on a daily basis, but this went beyond the ordinary risks they faced in the war. One could lose one's mind in the web.

Scout, with his computer skills and knowledge, would have been the obvious choice and Jon's first choice under normal circumstances. He would have known exactly what to look for, what to find and how to get to the information more efficiently than Jon could. Hacking into the web was something Scout used to do before he joined the team, but jacking into it? If anything went wrong, then the team would lose a valuable member with rare skills. It wasn't a justifiable risk in Jon's opinion.

Hawk wasn't overly fond of computers. He could operate them, he could load data into them, but he didn't have as in-depth a knowledge of them as the others did. He was old school. He preferred the hands-on approach, not the cyber-charged world of the computer. If Jon asked, Hawk would have done it without question or hesitation, but there was more to consider. Jacking into the web wasn't like other missions. If anything happened in there, Jon would lose a surrogate father, but the team would lose the one person who kept them together, who kept them working as a team. In his own inimitable way, Hawk was the one person who balanced everything and everyone. He could relate to every member of the team personally, and that helped keep them working as a team.

Tank was also old school but not quite as much as Hawk. He preferred a stand up fight to sneaking around a cyber grid. As valuable as Tank was to the team, one question that Jon asked himself was could he risk Tank's knowledge of history getting lost or becoming a leaked file to be sold to the highest bidder? Tank knew so much about the past that had been lost, and that knowledge couldn't get ripped apart by the web if there were a problem. Listening to him as he explained many past concepts and events to Jennifer over the years was proof of that.

Jennifer – the moment they learned that some of Dread's soldiers had been using Tech City to jack themselves into the web, Jon saw a look of horror in Jennifer's eyes. She was good at hiding her emotions, but Jon caught the look of fear just before she looked away.

"_Pilot?" Jon asked. _

_Without hesitation, Jennifer added her observations to the conversation. "Dread must not know that some of his soldiers are jacking into the web, or if he does, then he doesn't know that information is being left behind. If he did, he wouldn't allow it and would have the soldier removed. He would have to change passwords, security protocols --"_

"_How could Dread not know?" Scout asked. "Jacking in is done with a computer, the web is on computers, Overmind controls most computers. It could easily get into the system."_

_Hawk shook his head. "Then why would Dread need Tech City to access the web?"_

"_Good question," Scout thought quietly to himself, then added, "Maybe Overmind can access the web but can't control it?"_

"_How is that possible?" Tank asked. "Overmind was designed to control other computer systems."_

"_Because it's not a computer system," Scout said brightly. "The web is grid after grid and server after server of data and information. Remember, before the wars, the information technologists would say that nothing is ever really deleted on the web? The amount of information is massive. It's more than the human mind can comprehend. Even with detailed searches, it could take days to find something you're looking for. Maybe Overmind has that problem. The web is huge, he can't destroy it, he can't control it but he can access it. With Tech City, he can have who knows how many troops in there searching for specific information that he can't spend the resources using."_

"_Jacking into the system might save time," Jennifer mused aloud, "and Overmind might not know that information is being gathered from the soldiers."_

_It was a valid theory, but the look in Jennifer's eyes still worried Jon. "You think it's more than that?"_

"_No," Jennifer answered, then, "Yes. I mean, I can't imagine any Dread soldier purposely jacking in and leaving information behind willingly. That would make them traitors to the Machine." She thought for a moment. "It's possible that the information is being retrieved by Mindsinger without the soldiers' knowledge, but that's another risk altogether if anyone got caught doing that. We've heard a rumor that jacking in is addictive, and no soldier could be caught having an addiction. They'd get digitized if they were. But if Overmind or Dread is orchestrating this, it's possible that they're doing it for a larger purpose. They might be doing research."_

"_What kind?" Scout asked._

"_Jacking in means becoming one with the Machine. It's like being –"_

"_An immortal mind in a metalloid body," Jon finished for her. In a way, it was the stark reality of the litany coming true. "There were problems with other transfers, so they might be researching what happens to the human mind when it's mechanized."_

_Jennifer nodded her head. "Maybe."_

_There was something in her voice that Jon heard, some hint of doubt. "But?"_

_Jennifer sought the right words. "I don't know. None of it makes any sense. These files about New Order are there, we've been told that they're there and how to get access to them. It sounds like a trap, but every bit of Intel we have is telling us it's not. The information is there for the taking, and it all seems too easy."_

_Hawk leaned forward and reminded them of an old truism. "How closely do we want to look in the mouth of this gift horse?"_

It didn't make sense at the time, and it still didn't make any sense hours later. The more Jon thought about it, the more confusing it became. Why would any Dread soldier risk that much to jack in unless they had been ordered to? If they had been ordered to, then why since information could be gleaned from their minds so easily? It was possible they didn't know; it was possible that Dread didn't know, but Overmind? How could it not know? But what if it did? What if the information that took them to Tech City was part of an elaborate trap to trick Jon to do exactly what he did?

Then there was the other question – if Overmind was behind it all, then why would his troops have to go to Tech City? Why couldn't they jack into the web in Volcania like Dread did?

Jon's mind felt like it was going in circles.

No matter what the dangers were, it was a risk they had to take. Any one of them would have done it, and there were reasons Jon didn't let anyone else jack in. Reasons for the team, reasons for the future – but Jennifer's observations had hit too close to home for her. Jon could tell that immediately. She had escaped being transferred into a biomech by just days and a little luck. That was one nightmare he'd keep from her if he could.

Then there was the issue of… forget it. Who was he kidding? He let his emotions get the better of him, let them get in the way of making a command decision on a mission where others were more qualified for the task, and he wouldn't jeopardize any other member of his team. He chose himself.

Still, Jon had left them vulnerable. Perhaps Dread had already gone back into the web to retrieve any information Jon had unknowingly left behind?

Dread learned how to maneuver in the web very quickly – with or without Overmind's help. He also proved he knew how to find information Jon thought he had hidden away in his mind. What was worse, Dread knew Jon. He knew how to hurt him. He proved that point when he showed Jon the Power Base and all four of his teammates dead.

The risk of Dread locating the base had always existed. It loomed in the background every time they flew out on a mission. Only two outsiders had been to the base – Jessica Morgan and Andy Jackson, but both had kept the secret. If either were caught or captured, interrogated…

Keeping the base's location secret was a continuous safeguard, but losing his friends was the nightmare that woke Jon up at night. Dread had used that fear against him in the web -- Hawk, Tank, Scout… _Jennifer_… all dead, lying motionless on the floor and Dread taunting him with the fact. The base, he could lose. He had already reconciled himself to the fact that if the day came that the base had to be destroyed, he could go on. He could live with that decision. Losing one of his friends, that was something he wasn't prepared to do. Not yet.

Yet Dread revealed more than he might have suspected. True, he knew the way to get to Jon was by using his friends, but now Jon knew his enemy's weakness – Taggert's conscience and Stuart Power.

His dad…

_I'm a dream. I live on in my son, and you can't kill a dream_

Whether it was Jon conjuring his dad or if it was Dread, it was classic Stuart -- stating the obvious in a very unpretentious way. It was something he always did. Perhaps it was because Stuart was so smart that he didn't always consider that someone else didn't see the obvious as easily as he did.

_You can't kill a dream._

Dreams… Jon had dreams. He had ambitions. He had plans and wants and desires. He dreamed of what the world had lost, what he had lost, of what he hoped to have one day. Oddly enough, his dreams weren't all that out of the ordinary. He dreamed of having a home and a family. Mostly, he dreamed of having a future, one where he didn't have to fight anymore, where his children could grow up in relative peace. Stuart had that same dream for Jon and died trying to keep the dream alive.

Dread couldn't kill Jon's dreams. Nothing Dread could do would kill his dreams. He wouldn't let him.

But even though dreams couldn't be killed, the dreamers could.

_You wouldn't listen. You never listened!_

That was the point of contention, wasn't it? Lyman Taggert wanted his metalloid, mechanized world. He wanted to 'make the world perfect' and couldn't understand why Stuart disagreed. His dad had listened -- Jon was certain of that -- but the horrors Taggert wanted to unleash on the world bordered on the insane. Stuart was the one person who could have talked sense to Taggert if were possible, but the Lyman Taggert they once knew no longer existed. Because of that, Stuart had been killed. One nightmare began; the dreamer had died, but not the dream.

Jon didn't know who conjured up his father when he was in the web. For all he knew, it was Dread's guilty conscience, one that he didn't know he had. Maybe, just maybe, there was one spark of humanity left in him if Stuart's ability to reason could still affect him. Jon didn't hold out any hope that there would be any lasting effects or that there would be any chance of reaching Lyman Taggert under the many layers of Lord Dread, but perhaps there was a chink in his armor they could exploit. Sometimes, slight chances could yield a big return.

Stuart had once dreamed of stopping the wars and helping bring about a peace. That dream was now Jon's to make happen. Once peace was achieved, then maybe his own dreams of a future could come true.

Okay. Enough. The mission was completed and they got what they were after. Jon would just twist himself up in knots if he kept analyzing every move, worrying over every possible outcome. What's done was done, what would happen would happen and they would deal with the consequences as they came. Hawk had said that since they got back to the base late, they were all taking the rest of the night off. He didn't want to talk shop; he didn't want to hear anything bad. They were going to have a nice supper and a few hours down time before they started studying the New Order file the next day. That was a request Jon was more than happy to follow. A few hours downtime – they could use it.

Then maybe the rest of his headache would go away.

Jon picked up his monk's robe and folded it as he walked to the storage room. A monk -- he didn't know how much longer they could continue using such disguises. The massive population decrease due to the wars and digitizations had also decreased the populations in the religious orders. Not only that, there weren't that many organized religions in existence any longer. Followers of The Neon was one of the few in existence that still ventured into settlements and towns, so impersonating a group of traveling Neon monks was the easiest way to infiltrate Tech City and disguise their identities.

For the moment.

He placed his robe alongside all the other disguises they used from time to time. A quick glance around showed everything in its place. The monks' robes, the techs' outfits, the traders' rags, the Dread Youth uniforms… he stopped when he got to the uniforms. Jennifer had 'procured' them months earlier when he was caught and interrogated. Cadet, Youth Leader, Overunit – and another type of uniform Jon didn't recognize. It resembled the others, but it had different markings indicating a high rank. He picked up the shirt and examined it. He was certain he had never seen any soldier wear that particular uniform.

"What's this?" he muttered.

~*~*~*~*~

Jennifer knew why she was angry.

She hadn't felt like that in a long time, but it wasn't just anger. It was confusion. It was the feeling she used to have when she learned about some aspect of life that Dread had kept from her.

It all started when they met Mindsinger. No, to be honest, the anger started then. The confusion started just moments before when Hawk expressed surprise at Mindsinger being a woman. Why had that come as a surprise? There had been nothing said or any indication that Mindsinger was male or female, so why the assumption that she was male? Why the surprise when the team learned she was female?

Then there was Mindsinger herself. She didn't speak to Jennifer, didn't look at her, and she directed all her attention and conversations to the guys. When she entered the room, the first words Mindsinger said were, "Something I can do for you _boys_?" It was as if Jennifer wasn't there and wasn't worth acknowledging.

She understood the psychology behind the behavior. Overunits and caretakers used a similar method on the children in Volcania. Jennifer referred to it as the "divide and conquer" technique of praising one person while insulting another to demean a subordinate or create a psychological hierarchy. It was a mind game, a power play, but why did Mindsinger use it?

It was an incredibly overt behavior. The more Jennifer tried to categorize it and describe it, the more baffled she became. She had never seen the ploy used like that before. That, along with the way she looked over the guys, made Jennifer suspect Mindsinger's motives.

She certainly didn't like the way Mindsinger looked at Jon – as if he were an object to be appraised.

What confused her the most was that the _boys_ seemed unaware of Mindsinger's behavior. Maybe that was a usual behavior and she wasn't aware of it? Her experience with non-Dread Youth females was far less than her dealings with non-Dread Youth males. When she first joined the team, she had to learn a new set of behaviors for both. In the Dread Youth, gender meant nothing other than the fact there was a biological difference. It had nothing to do with behavior, promotions, military respect or protocol. Outside of the Dread Youth, the male/female issue took on an entirely new meaning.

Then again, maybe this was just one of those cultural differences that she had to wait a little longer to understand.

She folded up her monk's robe as she walked down the hallway. A monk. She had grown up with the religion of the Machine. After she escaped the Dread Youth, she learned that thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of religions had once existed. That particular conversation with Mentor had been very enlightening but very perplexing. One very valuable aspect she learned was that sometimes, the only thing known about a religious order was what people saw because some religious practices and rituals were private. The Followers of the Neon were known to walk through towns chanting _"Blessed be the Neon. Its light shall guide us."_ No one truly understood what they believed or the rituals they followed, so pretending to be a Follower of the Neon was a perfect way to sneak into Tech City.

Then there was one nagging question that she had no answer for: females weren't monks, so why was it no one questioned her being dressed as a monk? It seemed as if everyone was purposely ignoring them instead of them trying to hide in plain sight.

There was a click heard over the speaker. **"Okay, everybody, this is your major speaking. Supper will be served in fifteen minutes, so everyone finish up what you're doing and get to the mess hall. And since I cooked, I'm not cleaning up. Last ones to arrive get KP."**

Jennifer smiled. Hawk had insisted that they were going to have a nice dinner that night. They had worked for it, they owed it to themselves and nothing was going to deprive them of it. She walked more quickly down the hallway and into the storage room and saw Jon staring at the uniform. From the bewildered look on his face, she guessed he had no idea what the insignia meant. "It's a sector leader's uniform," she explained as she placed her monk's robes in the pile of disguises on the shelf.

"Sector leader?" Jon asked.

"I was surprised to find it. I wouldn't have thought there were any sector leaders at the location, but there it was."

A sector leader? Jon had never heard of the term. "What rank is that?"

"The highest rank a Dread Youth can reach. Their authority is second only to Dread's. They control entire military troops within certain sections of the country from a secluded location."

They "led" from secluded locations? Those terms seemed a bit contradictory. "So they're Dread's generals?" Jon asked.

"More or less. I wouldn't be able to pass for one until I'm older. There's an age restriction."

Jon almost chuckled as he refolded the shirt. "It seems there's still a lot we don't know about Dread. I didn't know he had generals."

"A few. Given how big the Machine Empire became, Dread and Overmind couldn't keep control without delegating some authority over the sectors to certain officers. They have the authority to speak to Overmind directly without an invitation. They're never seen in battle, and no one except Dread and Overmind know who they are."

Jon had never heard of that type of general. "Wait, no one knows?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "Dread keeps their identities a secret."

A secret? Then that meant – "Then it's possible that since you found this uniform there, then one of the guards who interrogated me could have been a sector leader."

Jennifer sighed. "Not likely," she said, her voice taking on a hint of frustration. "This uniform is more my size. The sector leader would have been female."

Her size? Right. The youth leader that had interrogated him – what was his name? Royer? -- had been taller, and Williams had towered over Jennifer. Still, she had been able to take him out of a fight in an impressive feat of endurance.

Then who could have worn the uniform? Who would have been the sector leader, possibly disguised as a lower rank? He didn't remember seeing any female soldiers there.

"**Ten minutes,"** Hawk's voice sounded over the speakers. **"Jon? Jennifer? You're the only two not here!"**

Both laughed at Hawk's frustrated tone. Jon placed the uniforms back on the shelf and said, "I think we'll be the ones on KP tonight."

~*~*~*~

"I just don't get it," Scout grumbled as he pulled open the scanner's chassis. "Five troopers, it read. Five. Not more, not less. Five. Why?"

"How many were there?" Jon asked him.

Tank sat down at the table. "More than five. We'd shoot one and another would take its place."

"But the scanner read one biodread and five clickers," Scout said again. "This makes no sense."

Jennifer looked over at the mish-mash of circuits and wires. "I don't think it's the scanner," she suggested. "I think it might have been something else that we haven't calibrated our scanners for."

His scanner wasn't malfunctioning? Scout liked that idea. "What do you think happened?"

"First, it was Tech City. The only place that has more electrical equipment or generated power is Volcania. There's no way to gauge how much interference was being produced from the machines alone. Also, with the cyber uplinks in the building we were in, Mindsinger would have had to have some kind of dampers operating to keep the servers and processors from being scanned or accessed remotely. That would have caused some interference as well for the scanners."

Scout sighed. "Good point. I didn't even think of the dampers. But it read Blastarr perfectly. It was a biodread."

"Blastarr's too big to be scanned as anything else but a biodread by the scanner," Jennifer added. "Then there's the chance that some of the biomechs already had a human mind transferred into them. The scanner not only picks up bodies, it registers the electrical impulses in a biomech circuit board. That's one of the ways the scanner differentiates a human from a clicker over a large distance since we're roughly the same size. The ones with the human minds could have lost more of a connection with Volcania than the ones that are purely mechanical as soon as they came into the city and was affected by the interference. The scanner might not have read them as purely mechanical, and –"

"Would have rejected the reading for that very reason and not considered it a clicker," Scout finished for her. "Makes sense. If our scanners experienced interference, then it's fair to say that the biomechs did as well." He looked at the now wide-open scanner. "Which makes our scanners useless in some cases. That stinks."

Hawk walked in from the kitchen carrying a large tray of… something. "I hope that comment doesn't refer to my excellent cuisine."

"Nope, never," Scout protested. Then, he leaned over to Jennifer and loudly whispered with a grin, "Never say anything bad to someone else when they do the cooking."

Hawk placed the pot on the table and took hold of the handle on the lid. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you tonight's repast." With a flourish, he lifted the lid. "Peas and potatoes ala Masterson."

It did smell delicious.

"My comment was definitely not for the main course," Scout teased.

Jon certainly appreciated the aroma. "Where did you get peas and potatoes?"

Hawk started spooning the food into the plates and passing them around. "They were a gift to Scout from Chelsea Chandler from the Passages. Scout didn't think he could do such a gift justice with his meager culinary skills, so he waited until it was my turn to cook."

"Chelsea?" Tank asked. "It's been a while since we've heard from her, hasn't it?"

"Not really," Scout told them. "I've had a few conversations with her from time to time. Anyway, when we were at the Passages a few days ago, she gave me a small bag of vegetables she grew in Hydroponics as a gift."

Jennifer tasted the meal. "Very impressive gift. Was there a special occasion or was this just a spur of the moment idea Chelsea had?"

Hawk blew on his food to cool it down. "And what do you think Patricia thinks about all that?"

Scout slowly scooped up a spoonful of his meal, looking sideways at the others. "Patricia and I get along just fine, thank you very much," he said.

Jon took another bite of his supper. "Not if she finds out Chelsea is giving you gifts like this. They do work together, don't they?"

"In Hydroponics," Jennifer confirmed.

Jon stopped his spoon in mid-air. "Must make for some interesting conversations."

Tank scooped up seconds. "Very interesting. It makes you wonder what they're saying. After all, not everyone gets peas and potatoes as a gift," he added.

Scout leaned back and said with a grin, "You know, all of you keep this up, and I won't share my bounty next time."

"Next time?" Jennifer asked. "So you _do_ expect future gifts like this from Chelsea. Patricia might get a bit jealous."

"Unless Patricia tries to outdo Chelsea," Hawk observed. "She might get us cucumbers, zucchini, carrots – I know how to make a dish with carrots that will make your mouth water. Learned it from a cook at Fort Alden."

"Fort Alden?" That got Tank's attention. "You were at Fort Alden?"

"Not during the attack," Hawk told him. "I was there about a year earlier. Did temp duty for a month when I was in-between mission assignments. I didn't do anything but keep my plane in top condition and walk around the town. I met some nice folks there, especially the temporary cook at the commissary. She was a former Army Ranger who worked covert ops for a time. She got shot up pretty bad on a mission and couldn't go out in the field again so she got assigned desk duty. She cooked as a hobby, so when they asked if she'd help in the kitchens when the cook was out sick, she agreed. Taught me a few tricks to field cooking you don't learn anywhere else in the military."

"Field cooking," Scout shook his head. "Nowadays, that's all anyone does."

"But not us tonight," Hawk told him. "Thanks to our kitchen, we're dining on haute cuisine for once. I think even the cook at Fort Alden would be impressed with my efforts on this dish."

"She was a _good_ cook?" Jon asked him.

"Good _field_ cook," Hawk told him. "She took a lot of pride in the fact. Give her c-rations or an MRE or whatever you could find dug up out of the ground and she could literally make a feast with nothing but a knife, a pan and a campfire. Give her something in a can, and she just tossed it back at you. Drove the supply officer crazy. He kept trying to stock the kitchens and she'd reject most of what he ordered. She was a rare woman."

"Why?" Jennifer asked.

Hawk dipped out seconds for himself as well. "Why what?"

"Why was she a rare woman?"

"Oh, uh," Hawk sought the right words, "she was strong willed, very competent, extraordinarily confident, good soldier, didn't have a weak bone in her body --"

"But that's not rare," Jennifer stated. "There are a lot of people who fit that description, soldiers and civilians both."

"Yeah, that's true," Hawk cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "That's not exactly what I meant…"

Jon put his spoon down and leaned back in his chair, his expression showing utter amusement at Hawk's discomfort. "Want to explain that further, Matt?" he asked, barely suppressing a grin.

"Explain…" Hawk cleared his throat. "It's just… uh… you see… Tank, help me out here," Hawk begged.

Tank shook his head. "I'm busy eating. I think I'll let you field this one."

"Field what?" Jennifer asked them.

Scout laughed. "It's a guy/girl thing," he told her.

Guy/girl thing? "It is?" she asked.

Hawk tried again. "Sort of. A couple of centuries ago, some countries didn't allow women to join the military. Some did in disguise, some helped out unofficially on the battlefields, but it just wasn't done. Women were considered… uh… look, it sort of goes back to an older belief that men had to protect women or that women couldn't physically handle the rigors of a military life."

Jennifer thought for a moment, then, "But none of that is true. How does an incorrect belief from a couple of centuries ago have anything to do with a soldier being considered _rare_ today?"

"Well," Hawk thought for a moment, "used to, not always, but a lot of the times centuries ago, men did most of the heavy physical labor; women took care of the house and family. Men held the jobs, women stayed home. A lot of times, men were considered the primary caretakers and providers for the family, and this perception grew out of that – as wrong as it is, and the perception is very wrong – but the idea that there are certain jobs that could be gender specific… uh… lingers."

Scout whispered loudly, "Open mouth, insert foot."

"Wait a minute," Jennifer looked at all four of her friends, "I think something just made sense. Are you saying that there are people who still think that women aren't as capable as men for certain jobs?"

"I…. wouldn't say that," Hawk countered quickly. "It's just … a lingering perception. There were certain careers some people didn't _associate_ with certain people. These days, everything from soldiering to scrounging includes everyone. Jobs taken based solely on gender don't exist anymore but there are still some preconceived notions that --"

"Wait," Jennifer put her spoon down. "That's why you were surprised to learn that Mindsinger was a woman, isn't it? You didn't consider it. You were expecting someone who ran a jack-in unit and dealt with who knows how many Dread Youth soldiers to be a male."

Hawk coughed as the others laughed. "And that was clearly a wrong assumption on my part," he said lowly.

Tank leaned over toward Scout. "Foot is in the mouth all the way up to the ankle."

"You two aren't helping," Hawk complained jokingly.

Jon smiled. "I think they're doing a great job helping you."

Jennifer laughed out loud. "So that's why Mindsinger was behaving the way she was," she concluded. "I didn't understand it until now."

The men had no idea what was so amusing. "How was she behaving?" Jon asked.

"You mean to tell me that none of you picked up on what she was doing?" Jennifer asked them. She smiled at their confused looks. "When she came down, she looked all of you in the eye and then she asked _what can I do for you boys_. She didn't talk to me the entire time we were there. She didn't even yell at me after I set off that EMP burst."

"She didn't speak to you?" Jon asked.

Jennifer shook her head. "No. I thought she'd be a little upset that I shut down her facility, but she acted almost like she was expecting it. There was no surprise."

"And she wasn't angry," Hawk mused. "I didn't notice. Jon, did you?"

Jon thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "Not really. I was more focused on her explanation about navigating the web before and then getting out of there afterwards."

"Maybe she doesn't get angry," Scout suggested. "Maybe she's the type who just doesn't get surprised by much."

"Possibly. I'd say she's another type of rare woman," Hawk mentioned as he finished his meal.

Jon disagreed. "I don't know if I'd call her rare. She didn't seem anything out of the ordinary to me."

"She didn't?" Jennifer asked. "Someone like her, I don't know if I'd call her ordinary."

Neither one of them noticed the amused looks Hawk, Tank and Scout shared.

~*~*~*~*~

Sometimes, Hawk knew when a hunch was right.

It wasn't often, but when it did, things had a tendency to work out just right.

"Mindsinger was playing us," Hawk muttered, "and Jon didn't pick up on it."

"Jennifer did," Scout reminded him as he started loading the Project New Order files information into the computer. "She had you on the ropes about it, too."

Hawk sat down next to the computer console and watched as the code quickly loaded on the screen. "Jennifer doesn't miss much," he commented, "but we were right – she's never met anyone who behaved like Mindsinger before. I didn't notice it until Jennifer mentioned it, but Mindsinger wasn't upset that we shut down her computers. That was odd."

Tank knew exactly what he meant. "They were having a few other problems at the time, maybe she was distracted? We put her out of business for a while until she could get her systems up and running again. She didn't mention any of it or make us pay for any damages or lost revenue when we left."

"Doesn't make sense," Hawk muttered. "A lot on this mission doesn't make a lot of sense when you try to figure it out."

Tank cleared his throat. "One thing we don't have to figure out is that Jennifer didn't like Mindsinger flirting with the captain."

"Rather aggressively too," Hawk laughed. "Reminded me a little of this one girl he knew back when he was a teenager. Met her in a settlement in Washington State. Nice girl, smart, forward, left Jon in no doubt about how she felt."

Scout punched a few buttons on the console. "This download will take a while," he muttered. "So how did the captain respond to the girl?"

"Like a young gentleman," Hawk told them. "Stuart and Morgana did raise him right, you know, so he politely ignored her -- more or less."

Scout leaned back in his chair. "Like he did with Mindsinger?"

"Yeah," Hawk crossed his arms as he remembered. "Jon's not someone who wears his emotions on his sleeve but he wouldn't intentionally hurt the girl's feelings. Besides, we noticed Mindsinger the moment she entered the room. She's not ordinary and, let's face it -- she gets your attention. You can't really ignore her."

Scout checked the monitor once more to make certain the download was working properly. "The captain hasn't had eyes for anyone but Jennifer for a while. Maybe that's why Mindsinger didn't register with him?"

"Maybe," Hawk agreed. "This was the first time something like this really bothered Jennifer."

Tank leaned back against the wall. "She didn't say anything when the captain went to meet Athena Samuels," he remembered. "Unless we didn't notice?"

Not noticing…Vi's comments when they met the Wardogs echoed in Hawk's memory.

"_So what's the story there?"_

_The question took Hawk by surprise. "What do you mean?"_

"_You didn't notice the looks between those two? There's something going on," Vi told him._

_Looks? What looks? "What do you mean?"_

"_Oh, come on, Hawk, you're not that old. You can't tell me there's something going on between those two?"_

_Going on? Okay, maybe he was getting older and the hair on his head was a little thinner, but he never had trouble seeing what was right in front of him._

_Vi laughed. "Oh, Hawk, before one would answer, they'd look at each other like they were trying to decide what answer to give. There's some kind of unspoken communication going on. You haven't noticed?"_

There was so much they hadn't noticed, maybe they missed any reaction to Athena Samuels? "Whether we did or not, the way everyone acted at Tech City has her thinking."

Scout laughed. "Thinking? Mindsinger made a play for the captain right in front of Jennifer, and she wasn't subtle about it."

"And got the green eyed monster all woke up," Hawk commented. "Good thing Jon didn't respond like Mindsinger was expecting. That may be what they need to start talking."

"Right now, you've got them in the kitchen alone," Scout pointed out. "They've got their chance."

"Are we doing the right thing?" Tank asked his friends. "Should we be playing matchmaker with them?"

"We're not doing that," Hawk told him. "We're just giving them a little nudge toward each other. Jealousy is as good a nudger as anything else. Just don't let on that we're helping out any. I don't think either one of them would like it. Everything just needs to seem normal."

Scout checked the upload. "So that's why you orchestrated the big con to get them on KP together tonight?"

Hawk cleared his throat. "Nudging," he reminded him with a wide grin.

Vi had been right about another thing. The three of them did have more to talk about these days than just baseball scores.

~*~*~*~*~

"I think Hawk did this on purpose," Jon muttered as he stacked the plates.

"Why?" Jennifer asked as she cleared off the table.

"He had that look in his eye he used to get when he tried to trick Joanna. He wanted us on KP for some reason."

"Maybe he just didn't want to clean up. He did cook, after all."

Jon looked sideways at her with a grin. "No, I know him. He's up to something."

They carried the dishes into the kitchen and placed them in the washer. Hawk's idea of a night off had been a good idea. They laughed, talked, joked and relaxed. Things had been tense for them for too long. Jon blamed himself for letting that happen. He needed to remember that they were human, not machines. They needed downtime. Luckily for them, Hawk had realized it.

He turned to leave but stopped when he saw Jennifer sit down in the chair, lean back a bit and pull her hair out of its ponytail. When they first met her, simple things like wearing her hair loose was an alien thought. So much of her life had been regimented, everything from her thinking processes to her appearance, that doing anything different would have been considered an act of defiance to a Dread Youth. Slowly, over time, so much about her changed. That regimented belief system lost its firm hold, and the real Jennifer Chase began to emerge. She was innocent but not naïve. Compared to the brashness of some of the survivors like Mindsinger, Jennifer could be considered young in experience but she was so much older in outlook than others. Perhaps not having a childhood caused that. Jon was still finding out all the small nuances that made Jennifer _Jennifer_. Every day, some new aspect of her personality appeared, and the more they were together, the more Jon wanted to know. There was a mystery there.

When they were in Tech City, he tried his best to ignore Mindsinger's rather explicit conduct without insulting her. Jon knew how to flirt, he knew how to accept or reject a woman's attentions, but he honestly hadn't wanted to acknowledge her behavior. Her exterior was a tough bravado that left nothing to the imagination. In short, she wasn't his type. He preferred to be with someone who was genuine, honest and smart.

"Did your opinion of Tech City change while we were there?" he asked.

Jennifer shook her head. "No, not really. Just the idea of the place makes my skin crawl."

Jon sat down next to her, his fingers absently tapping the table. "Me too. I know we use computers but some of the people there were absolutely dependent on them."

"I can't imagine anyone willingly putting themselves at the mercy of a computer." They were silent for a moment, then Jennifer asked, "What was it like when you were in the web?"

"Unnerving," Jon said immediately. "It was like being caught in a dream when you're aware that you're dreaming. You can control it somewhat, create scenes and occurrences, but it all felt fake."

"You saw your father," she said in a low voice.

"Not quite. I saw a memory of my father. I don't know who brought him into the scenario. I may have, but I'm beginning to wonder if something else was at work in the web."

"What do you mean?"

How could he explain? He was still pondering the questions his trip into the web had left with him. "The information was there to be found fairly easily. It's almost as if it were left for us. When Dread showed up, it seemed there was something else in the web working against him. I can't say I consciously conjured either my father's image or Lyman Taggert in there, and I can't see Dread causing them to appear either. So if neither of us did that, who did? Mindsinger said we were the only two in the web at that time, but how is that possible? Too many people are addicted to jacking in, so wouldn't others have been in there at the same time? She doesn't run the only jack-in station in Tech City. It almost feels like a setup, but I haven't been able to figure it out yet."

That was a lot of information almost in one breath.

Jon immediately realized that he wasn't the only one asking questions about their latest mission. Jennifer was questioning it as well. "So maybe someone wanted us to have the file, but then why place it in the web? Why not just give it to us?" she asked.

"Maybe they couldn't? Maybe this was the only way to do it safely? I don't know. I don't even know if the file was planted there in the web for us or if it's all just coincidence and supposition on our part. It's just…"

"None of it makes sense," Jennifer said. "I know."

Jon leaned back and relaxed. It was good to know that he wasn't alone in his suspicions. "I didn't thank you for getting me out of the web the way you did. It was ingenious."

Jennifer shook her head and smiled. "Not really. Mindsinger said that if we jacked you out mid-run, it'd flatline you, but I knew an EMP could end the run of the jack-in as long as the system's shields weren't strong enough to withstand a localized blast."

"Lucky for me," he said. "I do appreciate it." He smiled at her.

"We were lucky that a lot of Tech City isn't powered by electricity."

That, Jon didn't realize. "It isn't?"

"No," she told him. "If it had been, then the EMP should have shut down the entire settlement. They might have a chemical generator as backup." She paused and moment, then asked, "So what were you doing in the web when the run ended?"

"Fighting with Dread. Lyman Taggert had showed up. I don't think he could stand seeing how he used to be because he shot himself."

Jennifer considered what he said. "Even knowing the risks, would you jack in again if you got a chance to see your father?"

Would he? The thought had crossed his mind, but he knew the answer. "No. My dad's dead. He's just a memory now, and I don't need the web to remember him."

"I wonder what I would have seen if I had jacked in," she murmured more to herself than to Jon.

Jon didn't know how to answer that. Of all the things she could see, so much could have been nightmarishly bad. Whether it was a replaying of the events of the dream she'd had since she was a child or reliving what happened at Sand Town, he didn't want to subject her to that. "I can't say what you would have seen, but hopefully we won't have to go back to Tech City again for that reason. I don't think they were too sad to see us leave."

That brought a laugh. "No, after we helped shoot up the area, I can't imagine they would have been. If the clicker reinforcements hadn't shown up just after that, we could have finished off Blastarr. I think that's going to come back and haunt us."

Jon nodded his head. "That, I can definitely agree with. I just hope we haven't harmed Mindsinger's business by going there. Dread could take his revenge out on her."

"I don't think she has anything to worry about," Jennifer told him. "She can handle herself. After all, isn't she a rare woman?"

Jon didn't have to consider an answer. "No. She's tough, mercenary and a survivor but she's not rare in the way Hawk was trying to explain about earlier."

Jennifer said as she leaned back in her chair. "I thought… I mean…but Hawk said --"

"She definitely doesn't have what it takes to meet my definition of a rare woman," Jon told her.

Jennifer's eyebrows rose at that statement. "Oh? You have a definition?"

Jon smiled. "Yeah. Someone like you."

"Me?" Jennifer asked, surprised. "But I'm not anything special."

Jon leaned forward and said, "Believe me, you are. You're intelligent, tough, stubborn, you're definitely independent but more importantly, you've got a heart. Not only that," he couldn't stop the grin from forming, "you can beat me at chess," he joked.

"I see!" she laughed out loud. "That's a prerequisite, is it? Beating you at chess?"

"Not many can, you know," he teased. "I've even beaten Mentor a few times."

"That's not saying much," she teased back. "I've beaten him too."

Jon crossed his arms and leaned on the table. "Know what we need?"

Jennifer crossed her arms and leaned on the table, mimicking Jon's pose. "A chess contest to see which one of us is the best -- you, me or Mentor?"

"Race you to the computer?"


	15. Chapter 14 Gemini And Counting

_**Author's note:**__ The Afterwards tags essentially explore the changing relationship between Jon and Jennifer as the series progressed, but as the plot bunnies have grown and the story has developed, additional subplots to the tags have also grown to help carry the stories along. Gemini and Counting is an episode that lent itself to a lot of questions and "what if" scenarios. One such subplot will be showing up in later tags, but Gemini was a way to introduce it._

**Episode 14 – Gemini and Counting**

_Jennifer infiltrates a chemical factory known as Med Lab One to steal vaccine when a deadly, mutated virus infects people in the Passages. What no one else on the team realizes are the unknown dangers she faces when she enters the lab._

**Dread's Throne Room**

Possibly eighty-three percent.

_Eighty-three percent._

Dread considered the percentages in complete and utter disbelief.

Med Lab One was one of the most secure medical facilities in his empire. Its laboratories were far more advanced than any other. The chemical research performed there would hasten an end to the Resistance. Every possible precaution was taken to insure the safety and well-being of the guards, scientists and the technicians assigned to the facility to serve the Machine. Prepackaged food, sterilized water, even atmospheric scrubbers had been installed years earlier to keep his personnel healthy, the environment clean. How was it possible that a sickness could run rampant and infect possibly eighty-three percent of the organics stationed there? How could any type of infection thrive in such an atmosphere?

"My lord," his attendant entered the throne room and bowed slightly. "Overunit Whitlock has arrived with the preliminary reports from Med Lab One."

Preliminary reports. Dread hated those words. It meant there was little complete information available. Too much would change as the investigation continued rendering the preliminary reports useless.

"Send him in."

The attendant gave another slight bow and stood by the door, indicating that the soldier should enter.

Overunit Whitlock marched in, his head held high. "My lord," he bowed his head in greeting. "Our investigation has –"

"Overunit," Lord Dread towered menacingly over the soldier, "do you have any information as to the source of the infection?"

Whitlock opened the file he held in his hands and quickly scanned the reports. Undoubtedly, he didn't want to misspeak in any way. "The medical personnel are still attempting to follow the path of the illness, but they are certain that it was carried into the facility by the intruder. The first to fall ill was a guard, a technician and a cadet. The guard was found after he woke up in a small anteroom – he had been knocked out by sustained compression on pressure points in his neck. The technician was discovered in Lab 36. He suffered a blow to the head and discovered by maintenance technicians a few hours later. His identity and station could not be verified at first because his identification card was in his lab coat that was stolen from him. We have no data yet, but there is the possibility that the intruder wore the lab coat to avoid visual detection. The cadet had been shot in the leg by a possible resistance fighter outside the facility, but upon questioning, she stated that she had no knowledge of the identity of that intruder. She could give only a vague description. The technician and the guard never saw their attacker. What we do know is that several vials of influenza vaccine were taken from Laboratory 41."

Dread pondered the information for a moment. He was missing something. "Why would an intruder need a vaccine for an illness they were already suffering from? To deprive my people of it once they were infected?" he mused aloud. "Or was stealing the vaccine a distraction? Perhaps the goal of the infiltration was to infect my people…" He thought more on the subject, but he was no closer to discovering the truth. "What else have you learned, Overunit?"

"A first aid kit was taken from Lab 41 as well. The cadet's wound was treated before she reported to the infirmary."

That got Dread's attention. "Someone rendered first aid?"

"It would seem so, my lord."

"That does sound odd, doesn't it, Overunit? Someone infiltrates my primary medical laboratory, shoots one of my soldiers and then returns to treat the wound?"

"Very odd, my lord."

"Three individuals rendered defenseless…" Dread thought over another idea for a moment. "Has the possibility of two intruders been investigated?"

"It has, my lord. There is no firm evidence that there was more than one."

Dread considered the facts. Three unconscious - could one person have possibly been that effective? Perhaps, if the individuals were dealt with one at a time. Then, who would have wasted time to care for someone they had injured themselves? An intruder at that… sneaking past all the security protocols - who could have infiltrated one of his facilities 'unseen' or without raising an alarm by any defense mechanism or passing worker?

Who could enter Med Lab One 'unseen?' Only biomechs, technicians, scientists, guards, Dread Youth –

Dread Youth.

Could it be?

"Overunit, have any of your interrogations found evidence that any of the personnel saw someone who looked suspicious or who didn't belong at the facility?"

The overunit shook his head. "No, my lord. In addition, there are no intruder alerts and no hacked entry codes recorded. There was an entry in Lab 41 that did not use a personal ident code. According to the locking mechanism's entry records, the locking override was initiated by issuance of the master code. Only the overunit in charge has that master code, but unfortunately, he contracted the sickness and died before he could be questioned. However, the time stamp indicates that the master code was input within the hour before any incident is recorded, and the overunit was in that area of the facility at that time. There is nothing indicating that anyone was there who wasn't assigned there."

"Were there any recordings that showed any unassigned personnel at the facility?"

"From what we have viewed, no, my lord. All names and assignments have been matched. However, I have learned that not all areas are monitored. An intruder would have had to have known the exact locations of all monitors, all security patrols, all personnel idents, all -"

"Then it _was_ a Dread Youth," Dread muttered to himself.

"My lord? One of us? None of the soldiers would dare betray you," he confirmed vehemently. "We are loyal to the Machine!"

Dread raised his hand to stop Whitlock. He wasn't interested in hearing devout speeches of loyalty. "No, none of _my_ soldiers would," Dread agreed, his near smile knowingly unnerving the overunit. "But a former Dread Youth, one who knew our procedures and could infiltrate a facility without causing suspicion, coming from the outside –"

"My lord," Whitlock almost stuttered, "are you saying –"

"I'm saying that this infiltrator is a traitor to the Machine, one who carried this epidemic into Med Lab One. This traitor is responsible for the deaths of the personnel who have died there from this disease."

"Who, my lord?" the overunit asked, his curiosity sincere.

Dread looked at the overunit, his eyes nearly glaring with anger. "There is only one answer. Former Youth Leader Chase, a guard assigned to Med Lab One some years ago. She is one of Power's soldiers now." Dread knew Chase's academic and military record verbatim. He did not want a repeat of the failure of that youth leader.

Whitlock stared at Dread, stared at his reports. Dread expected no less. The very idea that a Dread Youth could turn on the Machine was unthinkable to many of his soldiers. However, traitors aside, there was still an epidemic in his empire that had to be contained.

"Overunit Whitlock, have the cadet who can identify the infiltrator transferred to Volcania immediately. I wish to question her myself once she has recovered from the influenza. Afterwards, instruct the medical personnel at Med Lab One to keep all infected in quarantine at the facility until further notice. Then take a squadron to Med Lab One and destroy it. Burn it to the ground. We must stop this epidemic from spreading. This illness will be purged. I will not see my dream of a mechanized world felled by a mere germ."

"My lord, do you mean to… purge… everything and everyone stationed at Med Lab One?"

Dread merely stared at the overunit.

"Yes, my lord. Immediately."

**Power Base Control Room**

Jon walked into the control room as Scout opened the secure frequency. "What is it?" he asked.

"Doctor Ferguson from the Passages," Scout told him. "She said she has something new for us. I'm bringing her up on vid-link now."

Jon sat down at the console and saw the doctor for the first time in days. There were circles under her eyes from lack of sleep. "Doctor," Jon said in greeting.

"_Captain."_ Doctor Ferguson's voice sounded tired. No wonder, she had been caring for sick patients for over a week - fighting fevers, tending to the sick and burying the dead. Her entire expression showed her exhaustion without any explanation needed. _"I'm sorry it's taken so long to get back in touch with you, but this is the first break I've had in days." _She paused for a moment, as if trying to find the rights words._ "The latest incident reports just came in, and it looks like we may have stopped the spread of the influenza from becoming a full blown pandemic. We're hoping that we've isolated it to this region, but it's too soon to be certain,"_ the doctor explained.

"I'm glad we could help," Jon told her sincerely, wondering how bad the news really was. "We weren't sure if we retrieved enough of the vaccine from the med lab."

"_It was more than enough. Some years ago, Dread medical technicians developed a storage method of severely condensing a vaccine into one-fiftieth of its original volume. It allows for long term storage without composition degradation."_

Scout almost chuckled and would have if the news they expected to hear weren't so dire. "So you just add water and stir, huh?"

"_More or less,"_ the doctor agreed with a weary smile. _"In fact, we had an adequate amount of it to send to other medical facilities just outside the regional borders in case the influenza reaches their areas. Let's hope luck is with us and the virus doesn't mutate again. I can't say the personnel at the med lab had the same luck." _She waited a moment, took a deep breath, then continued._ "It turns out my suspicions are correct. The newer, deadlier mutation we identified just after you left for the med lab is the one the Dread personnel contracted. I didn't consider the fact that any one of you could have been a carrier for the virus at the time. I should have since we'd only been inoculated against the original form and the first mutations of the virus. We couldn't keep up with the changes after that." _There was a brief pause, then,_ "How's Pilot? Any better?"_

Jon leaned forward a little, his posture showing how tired he was. "She still has the fever, but it's not as high as it was," Jon told her. "She's asleep right now. She's still sick."

"_Then it's still running its course. I wish I could give you some sage advice, but you're doing everything you can for her. I think the illness didn't affect her as quickly as the med lab personnel because she's been out here with us 'organics' for all these years. She's built up some defenses. Her fever going down is a good sign, so she should be all right if it breaks soon. If not… look, a few others have survived it."_

Scout moved closer to get a better view of the monitor. "But why did she get sick at all? We don't understand why the vaccine didn't work on her as it did on us. We all got the serum at the same time."

"_You didn't… wait -you don't know?"_ she asked.

"Know what?" Jon inquired.

Doctor Ferguson looked down, to the side, anywhere but at the team. Then,_ "I thought you'd heard already."_

Hawk moved behind Jon to see the vid-screen. "We haven't heard from anyone in a few days."

Doctor Ferguson sighed._ "The vaccine we used wouldn't have worked on any of the Dread Youth against this particular strain of the influenza. The virus was a bio-weapon meant to target the Dread Youth. They don't get sick as far as we know. They're inoculated for practically any disease known to exist in their own facilities, but their lives are spent in a less germ-filled environment than we have out here in the wastelands. They're not exposed to various types of bacteria, so their immune systems don't build up the necessary antibodies to ward off other diseases common to the rest of us. A few of the other Resistance cells have discussed using some kind of biological warfare against the Dread Youth using virus cells, but only one actually did it. They learned enough about Dread Youth physiology to determine which bacteria to use and created a more aggressive form of it that was highly contagious to the Dread Youth. Unfortunately, the virus escaped their lab and infected the rest of the population in the area."_

Germ warfare? None of the team liked the sound of that.

"Please tell us they're not serious?" Hawk asked her. "That's what Dread tried to do some months back when he infected a boy with a virus that put people in a coma. It made it easy for Soaron to digitize them."

"_That's what gave them the idea,"_ Doctor Ferguson responded immediately. _"The original form of the influenza was created to target the Dread Youth, but the later mutations was something no one considered. I mean, it looks like the virus worked the way they intended – reports state that over three-quarters of the personnel at the med lab contracted the deadlier influenza. Now, some of the Resistance leaders are pondering what kind of casualties they could get in Volcania itself since they suffered those kinds of numbers at a medical facility." _The doctor paused, and then said, "_Maybe it's a bit of irony - the Dread Youth are designed to withstand pain and heal quickly, but a germ lays them low. I guess Dread didn't think of everything when he created the Dread Youth. What about the rest of you? Any symptoms?"  
_

The four men shook their heads. "No, none of us have been sick," Tank explained. "The vaccine worked on us. What do you mean that the Dread Youth were designed?"

The doctor shrugged._ "Badly chosen word? Maybe conditioned is a better word? All we have to work from are rumors, but it seems Dread conditioned them to ignore pain, illness and emotions because he wanted to create a stronger group of humans to be his organic army. They don't acknowledge when they're sick which, for them, is a rare occurrence since their association with other organics outside of Volcania is limited. They're not exposed to various illnesses on a routine basis."_

The doctor was explaining a theory the team already knew as fact. Sometimes, it still came as a surprise that so many others had no knowledge of the Dread Youth. "That, we understand all too well," Hawk sighed. "Jennifer was no different when we first met her." That was true enough. At first, whenever she was wounded, she didn't allow herself to 'be' hurt. She didn't rest or give herself a chance to heal. She kept working – because it was all she knew to do. If she had ever been sick, she would have done the same thing. However, that didn't change the fact that someone out there was waging a war of attrition, and Hawk wasn't going to let this one go. "Which group did this?"

"_No one's taking responsibility yet,"_ the doctor informed them.

Another thought suddenly occurred to Jon. "Has the influenza run its course? What are the chances that others will catch it or it will mutate again?"

The doctor blew out a breath as she considered her answer. _"Not as great as they were. This is what I was contacting you about - Med Lab One was destroyed. Dread leveled it to the ground a few hours ago with the personnel inside, both dead and alive."_

Dread destroyed Med Lab One? That facility was one of the jewels in his imperial crown. For him to have destroyed it…

"Dread's got an Achilles Heel," Hawk muttered. "Now that the Resistance knows he'll destroy a site to purge a disease, they may try to do this again. They could make Dread dismantle his own infrastructure and demoralize his own troops."

"And how many people would have to die in the meantime?" Jon asked him. "How many innocent people would die with them?"

"_As someone who's suffered at the hands of the Dread Youth, I can't say I'm sorry that they were hit with the virus even worse than we were, but as a doctor, well, I hate to see anyone suffer like that. There would have been no medications that could have helped them in this case, and the sick would have outnumbered the healthy. Too bad the virus didn't affect biomechs or biodreads. If nothing else, it's given the Resistance another tactic in the war against Dread."_

And that was the brunt of the situation, wasn't it? The Dread Youth were the enemy, and too many innocent people had been killed on their orders. Few would have sympathy for them under any circumstance, let alone seeing them suffer the same fate as the survivors in the wastelands – and if Dread lost a large portion of his army by whatever means was available to the Resistance, if Dread himself was forced to destroy his own facilities…

War really was hell, only the innocent suffered along with the guilty.

Hawk watched Jon as he walked out of the control room toward the sleeping quarters to check on Jennifer. His shoulders were slumped and tired. They were all tired. The influenza had taken hold of Jennifer and did not want to let go – just like too many patients in the Passages. Jon didn't leave her side until her fever went down the day before, allowing her to breathe easier and get some real sleep. It had been a fight between her and the fever, and all they could do was watch, wait and hope since nothing in their infirmary worked. None of them said the words, but they were scared they were going to lose her.

Too many living in the region weren't surviving the epidemic. Now, they knew it had been created to target and destroy the Dread Youth.

Jennifer used to be in the Dread Youth.

Some amorphous 'someone' was trying to kill the Dread Youth… trying to kill Jennifer…

Hawk mentally prepared himself for their next possible mission - Jon would find out which group created the virus. He wouldn't let this issue continue 'unaddressed.'

He had noticed that something subtle had changed between Jon and Jennifer. There was a more relaxed companionship between them that wasn't limited to their private moments any longer. They 'talked' to each other even when the rest of the team was around to hear. When Jon had told Jennifer that she wasn't alone, Hawk recognized the shaded meaning. Going back into a facility where she had once been posted had to be unnerving, but she never let it show. It was a brave face, not false bravado that she showed when she sneaked inside the facility. Jon wasn't about to let her think that she was on her own, not like she was when she escaped the Dread Youth years earlier. She had them now, and they would be there for her.

Jon hadn't wanted to send her in there. Hawk thought that was obvious from the moment she had suggested it. He had tried to talk her out of it even though she had been right.

"_There's another way," Jennifer told them. "Dread's chem factory Med Lab One. It's manned by the Dread Youth."_

_Jon's eyes narrowed at the suggestion. "Attack a med lab?" The idea was too dangerous. Med labs were some of the most secure places in Dread's empire. Extra security, superior sensors, keypads requiring optical and vocal identification, cameras in practically every room and trained on every corridor, the list was endless. It was the main reason the Resistance didn't try to attack med labs. Biomech factories made much easier targets. _

_"Not an attack. Just one person. Me. I'm the one that can do it." Her voice trembled on the last sentence as a slight bit of nervousness crept into her voice. Jennifer didn't get 'nervous.' "I know the layout, patrol schedule, all the security traps."_

_Med Lab One had been one of Jennifer's last assignments as a Dread Youth. She was stationed there as a cadet which meant she had to learn and memorize every entryway and conduit that led into the facility. She had to know every security protocol, every force field, every way in to the facility in order to protect it from attack from any quarter. Given the tactical propensity of her thought processes, she undoubtedly tried to imagine other ways an enemy could gain access so she could have guarded against it. That knowledge could finally be put to good use._

_Hawk could see Jon's over-protectiveness coming into play, could see him try to hide it. "Yeah, but that was a long time ago. Things could be different now." It was partly the truth, but it wasn't a protest that could be taken seriously. Dread was a creature of habit that didn't change procedures and protocols easily no matter what happened. Once his troops were trained to a routine, he liked to keep it. Change 'damaged' his utter control. It was rare that he changed routines._

"_What was the first thing you taught me when you freed me from the Dread Youth? Our prime goal? What we're all about?" Jennifer asked him, a slight smile on her face. Arguing logically – Jon didn't stand a chance._

_It was also the one question that Jon couldn't ignore. "To preserve life." Hawk wondered briefly if Jennifer realized that her life was one of the lives Jon wanted to preserve._

_Hawk knew that Jon had decided, but he didn't like his decision. Yet what else could they do? They needed the vaccine, they needed to try to save as many as possible, and the med lab was their only short-term option. He had to agree with Jennifer. "I hate to say it. She's right." Hawk knew the dangers as well as Jon and Jennifer did. Walking into a Dread facility wasn't a task anyone could perform lightly._

_Jon nodded his head. Hawk could see the resignation in his eyes. "All right."  
_

Those two words, acquiescing to the inevitable conclusion that Jennifer had to sneak into Med Lab One – Hawk could see Jon was concerned. With all the dangers the biomechs, Dread Youth, who knows how many security traps presented, who knew that they had to worry about the influenza as well?

There were more unguarded moments happening between the two as well. Hawk saw the look pass between them in the jumpship when they went to infrared. He was worried, she was nervous, and their eyes expressed those feelings with each other.

When Jennifer left the jumpship, Jon watched her go. Hawk and the others knew one thing – if the mission went badly, that was the last time they might see Jennifer alive. Maybe, just maybe luck would stay with them a little longer. More than those patients' lives depended on the success of the mission and Jennifer getting out alive.

Tank sat back in his chair and stretched. "Lab created viruses let loose on the world. I thought we were better than that."

"And a smart virus at that," Hawk said as he relaxed in his chair for a moment. "This isn't the first time something like this has happened. I've seen some groups do some desperate things before."

"Like what?" Scout asked.

Hawk thought for a moment. "During the Metal Wars, every type of warfare you could think of was used to fight Dread. The techs tried to create computer viruses to destroy Overmind or disrupt Dread's computer network. Air strikes were called in on every base the Resistance could find. Then when we found out that Dread had armies of kids carrying out his orders…" Hawk just shook his head. "That was a bit of a nightmare in itself."

Scout sat up a little straighter. Kids? Very little was known about that time of the Metal Wars, and even fewer were still alive to tell any tales. Stories about how the defense forces found out about the Dread Youth were varied and incomplete. "How'd you find out about them?"

Hawk looked at his friends for a moment, and then told them something he'd never told anyone before. "I was flying air strikes in northern Michigan, up around where Lake Superior used to be. We'd been there for weeks wiping out as many of Dread's ships as we could. We had a lot of dogfights and shot a lot of them out of the sky. During this one battle, we had orders to try to capture one and find out what we could from its crew. I came in low on this one airship's tail. I was able to shoot out its directionals and blast its rudder controls to pieces. It went down but was still relatively intact when it hit. I was under orders to investigate, salvage any data that might have survived, so I landed right next to it. When I finally got the hatch open and looked in, I saw five kids about my son's age in there. Teenagers. Young adults. All dressed in those stiff uniforms. One was still alive and muttering one of the litanies – I don't remember which one, but that's all he'd say. He'd give his name, rank and litany. Nothing else."

Tank's look of surprise changed to understanding. "Jennifer told the captain that she was taken for the Dread Youth seven years before the Metal Wars started. She was just a little girl. If you found teenagers in the ship, then that means Dread had been training children of all different ages during those same years to be his army."

Hawk nodded. "I contacted my commanding officer, and it turned out that the military brass already knew that a large portion of Dread's forces were made up of these kids. That's when we first heard the term Dread Youth. They'd kept that information from the Resistance fighters because they thought we would have issues fighting them and undermine the war effort. Thing is, they were right. It made our job harder."

"There had to be adults too, right?" Scout asked him.

"There were. Some of them were the overunits. A lot of adults flocked to Dread's side of the war. They liked what he had to offer them. The thing is that they _chose_ to do that. These kids – we've heard some horror stories from Jennifer. They were brainwashed. They didn't know what Dread had done to them." Hawk took a deep breath. "The top brass purposely didn't tell us, but we found out later that they'd known about them for a long time."

That was information no one had heard before. Even Tank, a product of a genetics lab, had never realized that. "Washington knew?"

Hawk nodded. "Not just Washington. I don't know how much or exactly when other governments realized it, but I was told that it had happened all over the planet. Children had been taken to who-knows-where after towns and cities were attacked. We should have realized it a lot sooner. Maybe we could have saved some of them."

"We helped save one," Scout reminded him. "Now she's trying to save as many as she can even although none of them listen to her. It doesn't stop her from trying."

"This cadet listened to her," Tank added quickly. "Jennifer cracked her armor. This one really got to her though. She was trying to get the cadet to come with us."

Scout was still as confused as the others about the incident. "That cadet must have said something or done something different. Jennifer wouldn't have risked any of us with the biomechs coming unless –"

"Unless the cadet believed her," Hawk finished. "Usually, they're trying to kill her."

"I hope that cadet wasn't in Med Lab One when Dread destroyed it," Tank continued. "If Jennifer was able to get through to her, if she was able to make her understand the truth, then that would be another Dread Youth that was freed."

Med Lab One.

Jennifer never mentioned it other than the fact she'd been stationed there for a while.

Jon didn't know when or for how long or what happened, but how much she _didn't _say spoke volumes. Something must have happened there years ago that she didn't want to talk about.

What had he been thinking, letting her disguise herself as a Dread Youth and go inside that facility? Jon shook his head in disbelief.

It was too dangerous.

It was –

Who was he kidding? He had taken the risk himself to jack into the net at Tech City when others were more capable to perform the task, and that had been the wrong decision. He second guessed himself afterwards and would have chastised the decision in a subordinate. As a leader, he had to allow his people to do their jobs, and sometimes that meant them taking all the risks. Jennifer did the job, and as she said, she was the only one who could do it.

_But it was Med Lab One._

He heard the tremble in her voice when she said she was the only one. She had sneaked into other Dread facilities before dressed as one of the soldiers, but this time was different. It was Med Lab One. There might have been people there who might have recognized her if they saw her. She knew that risk the moment she told them the plan.

_But her voice trembled._

Jon had never heard that sound in her voice before, not when they first met, not when she faced off with an overunit or youth leader, not when she shot back at biomechs or biodreads. For whatever reason, she was scared. Was it because she was sneaking back into the facility? No, it was something else. She'd been uncomfortable as soon as she emerged from her quarters wearing one of the youth leader uniforms she'd stolen when he'd been taken prisoner and interrogated.

_Jon waited in the hallway, pacing worriedly as he tried to think of another way to get the vaccine without Jennifer sneaking into the med lab. He didn't want her going in there, not alone. Even though people were sick, dying, needed the vaccine, and the med lab was the only nearby location that could possibly have the quantities they needed, sending Jennifer in there alone scared him. _

_Eventually, Jennifer walked out of her quarters in the stiff youth leader outfit, her hair pulled back severely and a cap on her head. She didn't see Jon at first. She stood still, adjusted the buttons again, she took a breath…_

_She was a little nervous._

_Jennifer didn't get 'nervous.'_

_In that moment, Jon understood. She was dressed as a Dread Youth, a persona she detested. Why hadn't he seen it before? After everything she'd gone through, everything she'd learned to distance herself from 'Youth Leader Chase,' the mere act of putting on the uniform must have felt like she was slipping back into that identity. At that moment, Jon silently swore to himself that would never happen, not if he could help it._

_She did look impressive in the stiff uniform. _

_Months earlier, she had surprised him when she marched into his interrogation room dressed as an overunit and behaved as one. The look in her eye, the way she moved, the way she stood – all of it was like an ingrained behavior that he'd never took the time to understand. It stood in stark contrast to the first time he'd seen her; her uniform was weathered, ragged, holes worn in it from use it wasn't meant to withstand. Exhaustion, pain and resignation were in her eyes, and her attitude was the complete opposite of any Dread soldier he'd ever met. The difference was startling, but it was only the beginning of attempting to understand the complex nature of the woman standing before him._

"_Ready?" he asked her as he approached._

"_I think so." There was some ambivalence in her voice, some shade of loathing, but the tremble was gone. "It's easy to forget they're a bit uncomfortable when you don't wear them every day."_

_Jon would be happy to never see her in that uniform ever again. It brought up too many bad memories for her. "You don't have to do this. We can find another way inside," he offered again._

_Jennifer smiled, sort of. "Those patients can't wait, and this is the quickest way to get that vaccine."_

"_I wish you could wear your suit," he said again._

"_Me too," she agreed, "but it wouldn't help me this time. It could set off detectors even if it wasn't activated. "_

_Resigned to the mission, Jon asked, "How far is the lab from the entry point?"_

_Jennifer thought for a moment. "Not far. If I'm lucky, I can exit through a grate located around the corner from the lab. If not, there's another shaft that comes out on the other side of the lab, but that corridor used to be a high traffic area. That will be a little trickier."_

_She'd considered several options of how to sneak in. That much was obvious. "How many labs would have this vaccine?"_

"_Lab 41 was where they were stored before. And this is a Dread facility. Dread likes to keep routines and systems the same, so it's a fair bet that the vaccine will still be stored there."_

_That was a risky premise but an understandable conclusion. Still, Jon had the gut feeling that they were throwing her back into the belly of the beast with no way out._

"_What about monitoring systems?"_

"_There are some blind spots. I know a few ways to avoid the cameras."_

"_So all entryways and exits aren't monitored?"_

"_No, not all. I don't think Dread is aware of that or he would have corrected the oversight. After all, it is a med lab. There are enough soldiers to make the place practically impenetrable unless you know where the holes are."_

"_So you just have to get past the soldiers in certain locations?" Jon asked her, worried that she would be outnumbered at any time._

"_And that will be the easy part," she said, her voice confident for the first time._

Easy? He'd seen her fight. She was good. She knew some tricks that surprised them all. She'd get past the soldiers – he had to believe that.

There were no plans, drawings, or schematics of the facility found anywhere. All Jon knew is that most of it was underground and it was a maze. Jennifer would have to operate on just her memory of the layout because they couldn't offer any help.

She would be alone in there, but then again, she would never be alone. He promised her that.

There was something else; something that he didn't understand. It went beyond the mission being dangerous. It was something else that completely unnerved her. When they were in the jumpship on approach, he looked back at her, she looked at him – in that moment, he saw fear in her eyes, and it was a fear he'd never seen before. Jennifer didn't get scared often, so when she did, he knew to pay attention.

When Tank brought her back to the jumpship, Jon thought everything was fine. She looked like she'd been in a few scuffles, had a few new bruises and cuts, but she was alive and intact. The look in her eyes came from the confident person Jon knew so well, the one who would smile at him just as she checkmated him at the end of a chess game, the one who would stare daggers at anyone who dared to harm her jump ship. Whatever it was that had worried her going in was gone after the mission was over. Maybe whatever it was that made her nervous was in the med lab itself? It certainly wasn't what happened outside at the rendezvous point.

_They were scanning the sky, watching for any movement. They were minutes past the hour deadline, and there was no word from Tank or Jennifer. She had to have been at the rendezvous point in time. Tank would have found her, picked her up on the sky bike and they were flying to the ship. Jon wouldn't let himself think otherwise._

"_There they are," Scout pointed to the approaching sky bike. _

_As the distance between them shrank, Jon could see Jennifer was alive and holding onto Tank. They were all going home from this mission alive. _

_Tank landed the sky bike next to the jumpship. Jennifer jumped off and handed the vaccines to Jon. "How'd it go?" he asked._

"_Got in, got out, no problem." Her voice sounded almost self-satisfied. _

_Jon found that hard to believe. "None?"_

"_Some problems," Tank corrected. "She was fighting biomechs and a cadet was going to shoot her when I flew in."_

"_No, she wasn't," Jennifer corrected quickly. "I think I got through to her."_

_Got through to her? She had tried to deprogram a Dread Youth in the middle of a mission? Once again, Jon was impressed with her perseverance. "How do you know?" Jon asked._

"_She hasn't sounded an alarm, there are no biomechs shooting at us at the moment and she was crying earlier. Dread Youth don't cry, remember?"_

A crying Dread Youth – no, they didn't cry. Not a real Dread Youth, not one so indoctrinated that they could withstand hearing the truth. Jennifer got through to one, and that was a success in itself. No wonder she seemed like her usual self – she had gotten through to another Dread Youth.

Still, Jennifer was back with them, safe and sound. Jon could breathe easy again – but not for long. It was later that night that Jennifer showed signs of being ill. As usual, she thought she was just tired, ignored the symptoms and continued working on routine maintenance for the jumpship. It was obvious soon enough that she had contracted the more dangerous form of the influenza.

Doctor Ferguson explained the best ways to treat the deadly virus, and there was nothing she could do for Jennifer that they weren't already doing. Transferring her to the Passages for medical care would be more dangerous than treating her at the base because of the risk of infecting others. The base could be quarantined much more easily than any area of the Passages if necessary, and they had gone far beyond their bed capacity to care for the sick.

The mutated strain was dangerous, deadly, and now, Jon knew it was designed to attack some particular lack of immunity in the physiology of the Dread Youth. Some group in the Resistance had created a virus that was more toxic to them. Now, he had to wonder about what happened to the virus after it was contracted by a Dread Youth. Did it continue to mutate? Did it become more contagious? Did it become deadlier? There were too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

Jennifer was over the worst of it, maybe, hopefully, but when her fever had been so high, when she was mumbling through fevered hallucinations and scared they were coming, whoever 'they' were, and scared that she'd been found no matter how many times he assured her she was safe…

She was going to be fine. Jon had to think that. Once the fever truly broke, she would be fine. They weren't going to lose her.

He needed to clear his head a bit, so he took the longer path back to the sleeping quarters. As he walked into the landing bay, he saw the jumpship. Jennifer had been on board, repairing a few components and running routine diagnostics when she realized that she wasn't well. She thought it was something she could 'sleep off,' but when the fever appeared, she knew that she had contracted the influenza even before Mentor diagnosed her with it.

Jon boarded the jump ship. It seemed hollow and empty for some strange reason. That was when he saw Jennifer's tools on the floor, exactly where she'd left them. That alone would have warned any one of them that something was wrong. Jennifer never left tools lying around. Everything had a space, and everything had a place. It was part of her Dread Youth past – everything had to be 'perfect' to be like the Machine, so even their tools were stored in perfect order. It was a habit she'd tried to break but couldn't yet. She liked knowing exactly where every tool was at any given time.

Jon placed the tools in the toolbox while being careful not to move any of the ship's components that she had been working on. It wouldn't hurt anything if they stayed where they were for a few more days.

He then saw that some of the lockers were open – they'd been too preoccupied with a successful mission to remember to re-secure the locker doors after they retrieved their gear when they returned to the base. No, that wouldn't do either. Unsecured doors were a danger on a moving ship. He got up and closed the locker doors but paused when he reached his. There was a small disk lying on the bottom shelf. He hadn't seen it before. He reached down, picked it up and read the small note attached to it. _Jon, listen to this if I don't make it back._ It was in Jennifer's handwriting.

She'd been worried she wouldn't make it back.

When did she put it in his locker? He remembered when they returned from destroying the biomechs, Jennifer was coming out of the jump ship. She must have made the recording then. Was it a last minute thought on her part?

He placed the disk back on the bottom shelf in his locker. Since she made it back, he wouldn't listen to it. He'd much rather speak to the real person. He checked his watch. Jennifer had been asleep about an hour. He'd go check on her, and if she were awake, maybe he could find out what else had bothered her.

She was so hot - the oppressive heat woke her up. Her vision was slightly blurry, but she could make out the empty water glass on the table beside her bunk.

Water.

She wanted some water.

If she could just pick up the glass and walk the few steps to the dispenser, she could have water.

It took some effort to push the blanket off her and sit up. The room swayed back and forth, and she gripped the edge of her mattress to keep from falling over.

"Corporal Chase?" Mentor's voice was off somewhere in the distance, but she ignored him. She didn't want to talk to Mentor. She didn't want to hear him. She didn't want the room to sway. She didn't want to move. She just wanted some water, and it was across the room.

She tried to stand, but she couldn't get her legs to support her and she fell back on her bunk. Out of breath from even the slightest attempt, she sat back up, gripped the edge of the bunk again. "Okay, one more time," Jennifer said as she tried to catch her breath. All she wanted to do was walk across her quarters to refill her water glass. She didn't see any reason why she had to ask one of the guys to do it – they had work to do; she could do it - she didn't need someone to wait on her hand and foot.

_Hand and foot._ That was a strange saying. She'd have to ask Mentor what it meant when she felt better.

Wait, she didn't want to talk to Mentor, right? Didn't that thought just pass through her head?

If she could just shake off the fever, maybe she could think clearly.

She stood up slowly. The room spun a bit, she reached over, grabbed the chair and held on. She concentrated on breathing, trying to get the pounding in her head to stop and for the room to settle down. She'd been sick before, but nothing like this. Before she met the team, when she was alone in the wilderness hiding from the biomechs, she'd gotten sick. She had never been ill before. She didn't understand what was happening to her. She remembered reading some research about illnesses that 'organics' suffered, but the one thing she remembered was that sick people with fevers needed to remain hydrated. Her fresh water supply was low at the time. She had to ration it even though her fever made it hard for her to think.

Then the clickers showed up, and she ran for her life, across the river, up the mountain -

This influenza was far worse. Her thinking was more than muddled, her limbs were weak and her bones were hurting. It didn't matter that she'd be well in a few more days. Right then, at that moment, she felt awful.

The room spun again, the floor caved in beneath her, the chair started to flip –

"Easy, I've got you," a familiar voice said in her ear. She felt strong arms coming around her, then being sat down in the chair as a cool hand cupped her face. "Mentor told me you were awake. You've still got a fever, but it's not as bad," he said, his voice sounding relieved. "Doctor Ferguson said that's a good sign that you're over the worst of it."

She opened her eyes and found Jon kneeling right beside her.

"Did you need something?" he asked her, his voice sounding concerned.

She took a rattled breath – odd, her lungs were working fine the other day. "I wanted some water," she whispered, her voice still weak and unsteady.

"I'll get it," he said gently as he reached over and took the water glass from her. He filled it up and helped her hold it as she drank. The water didn't do much to soothe her raw throat, but it stopped her from being so thirsty.

"I thought I could walk across the room," she muttered as she closed her eyes and curled up in the chair. His hand returned to her forehead, then her cheek. She felt his other hand push her hair behind her ear. She just needed a moment… just a moment… had to catch her breath… had to keep the room from spinning…

"I know," she heard him chuckle. "Let's get you back in bed."

"No," she placed her hand on his arm but didn't open her eyes. "Need to sit up for a few minutes."

Jon wasn't going to argue with her. He understood – she just needed to do _something_ other than lay there and feel helpless. When the sickness had been at its worst and they thought they were going to lose her, Doctor Ferguson explained what was she was going through as the stages progressed. Each version of each mutation followed a distinct pattern, and the version Jennifer suffered from was a more virulent strain. Once the fever started to abate, then hopefully, the worst was over as long as she rested and didn't have a relapse. They wouldn't know for certain until the fever broke. They were just going to have to ride out the illness and hope for the best. When her fever did come down, there had been a collective sigh of relief among the team.

"Feeling any better?" he asked, knowing the answer.

She grunted slightly as if the effort to speak was too much.

"I'll take that as a no," he smiled.

"No, it's better," her voice was still weak and her breathing was shallow. "I'm tired… it's hard to breathe... lying down."

Hard to breathe… Jon wasn't going to forget how hard it was to listen to her gasp for every breath just the day before.

Her face was cooler than it had been. The fever was weakening and would break soon. There would be no relapse. He had to believe that. She was going to be fine.

When he found out which Resistance cell had created that virus and lost control of it –

"Did the vaccine work?" she whispered.

She'd asked the question several times before, but with a fever so high, she probably didn't remember hearing an answer.

"It worked, and you got more than enough. We just got an update from Doctor Ferguson. They were able to contain the influenza to their region and get vaccines to the borders. Looks like it'll be over with soon." He wondered if he should tell her about the med lab – no, later, when she was better. She'd blame herself, but it wasn't her fault. There was no way they could guess that she carried the illness into the facility when the doctors themselves thought that they were safe after being inoculated.

She opened her eyes for a moment and asked, "What about you?"

She had asked him that question several times as well. "Me? I'm all right. We all are." He was going to have to tell her that the illness was lab-created by Resistance forces trying to hurt the Dread Youth. How could he do that? How could he admit that people they were allied with did something that could potentially kill her? That was a conversation for another time.

"Good," she muttered, her breathing still shallow but at least she wasn't fighting for every breath any longer. She leaned against his hand, letting him support her head for a moment.

"Jennifer, can I ask you something?" Jon tilted her head just a little so she could look at him. Her eyes weren't fever bright any longer, thank goodness, but he saw how tired she was. She needed to sleep. As soon as he could talk her into it, he was putting her back in her bunk to let her sleep some more, but she needed to sit up for just a few minutes. He would sit there with her as long as she needed him.

She nodded her head slightly.

"If you don't want to tell me, I'll understand and I won't ask again. I was wondering… something scared you before you went into the med lab. Is it something you can talk about?"

She didn't say anything at first. She frowned a bit as if trying to remember. "I didn't want them to take me back if they caught me," she muttered.

"Take you back?" Jon didn't understand exactly what she meant. Some of the words she had muttered when she was so sick hadn't made sense. Some was mumbling, some was out of context, but 'take you back' could have multiple meanings.

She took a shuddering breath. "I'm a traitor to the Machine. Dread wouldn't want his troops to know that any of us defy him." She paused for a moment, as if trying to find the right thought. "He could have me digitized, but he'd probably make an example of me for having… doubts."

This was something new, something she'd never mentioned before. "Made an example of – how?"

Her eyes met his, and the fear was there again, but her voice was a little stronger. "It'd be worse than executing me. He'd brainwash me, turn me back into a Dread Youth. Turn me into a non-thinking drone that only obeys orders. Dread has the technology to warp people's minds. He'd take away everything that made me _me_. I won't go back to that. I'd rather be dead."

That's what she meant – Tank had told them what Jennifer had said to Cadet Erin when they made their escape. She'd let Erin choose, but one of the choices was to kill Jennifer. She wouldn't go back; she wouldn't let anyone take her back. She'd fight, she'd die, but she wouldn't let Dread take away what made _her _Jennifer Chase_._

If she'd been caught and taken before Dread – she knew what fate awaited traitors to the Machine Empire, and she boldly walked into Med Lab One with _that_ threat hanging over her.

She shivered, and Jon reached over to pull the blanket off the bunk. He covered her with it and tucked it around her. "I don't want you getting sick again," he told her.

She looked at him for a moment, then said mid-cough, "It's dangerous to know the truth."

The old saying, 'the truth will set you free' meant something different in context with Dread than the saying may have originally meant, but there were consequences Jon hadn't considered before. "More than I thought," he agreed. "I didn't know Dread could do _that_."

"He can," she affirmed. "There were rumors when I was there… I don't know what he did, but some of the results were disasters. I won't let that happen to me. I won't go back."

They were quiet for a while. Jon thought that she was dozing off and was ready to carry her back to her bunk when she said, "I got through to her. That cadet. Erin. All the soldiers I've tried to make understand that Dread lied to them, she's the first one I know really heard me."

"She heard you," he said. "Tank told me more about what happened when he picked you up at the rendezvous point. You made an impression on her."

Jennifer clutched the blanket around her some more. "I might have put her in more danger."

More danger? Because it was dangerous to know the truth? There was more to it – there had to be. If she was willing to talk, Jon was more than willing to listen. He pulled another chair next to hers and sat down. "What do you mean?"

"We were watched all the time, everywhere we went, by the surveillance cameras and the caretakers and the overunits." She tipped the water glass and took another sip. "If anyone exhibited any unexpected behavior, they wanted to know why."

She'd mentioned something like that before, how 'unexpected' behavior meant someone 'disappeared.' "Do you think she'll behave differently now that she knows the truth?"

"I don't know," Jennifer whispered, her voice scratchy. "I had to force myself to not look and stare at everyone else. I saw everything so differently." She coughed and took another sip of water. "All those Dread Youth marching by, going to their assigned positions, all of them so proud to serve the Machine and all I could think of was that it was nothing but lies. I couldn't tell anyone. Even if I did, they wouldn't believe me. I couldn't let anyone think I believed any less – it was so hard."

Jon had never considered the difficulties she faced in the days and hours _before_ she escaped on that mission. The idea of being so completely alone in a fortress full of people who would report her if they thought she had a single disloyal thought - she had to have been scared. "But you did it," he assured her. "You fooled them long enough to get out."

She shook her head at the memory. "When I escaped, I didn't have anywhere to go, no supplies, nothing. I knew I wasn't going to survive for very long and I didn't deserve to, not after what I did –"

Jon placed a single finger over her lips to quiet her. "You didn't know," he told her. He'd tell her as many times as necessary to let her know that no one blamed her for Sand Town. She had no choice to do whatever it was she did or didn't do.

She stared at the almost empty glass of water. Jon could tell that she was getting more tired by the minute, but there was something she needed to say. He waited.

"Ever felt guilty?" she asked him.

Guilty? Sure, he felt guilt. He knew how overwhelming it could be, but the guilt she felt at Sand Town wasn't of her own making. How could he make her see that? "Yeah, I've felt guilty."

The look she gave him indicated she didn't really believe him. Maybe she was talking about a different type of guilt? "When I realized what it all meant, all the litanies and the slogans and what Dread was doing, I knew I was part of it. I thought all I was… was a traitor to the Dread Youth and the Machine. I felt guilty, but I didn't know why. I didn't realize that it was guilt from harming other humans." She coughed, hard. "I didn't realize I was human until you told me, remember?"

"I remember," he told her. Jon would never forget that day or that conversation.

_Hawk and Scout had worked on the jump ship's engines for two days without success. Nothing was working. _

"_We need a new ship," Scout mumbled as they tried one more time to realign the circuits. "This one is about to fall apart on us. _

"_There aren't any available," Hawk told him as Tank exited the jumpship with a box of spare parts in his hands. "Anything useable?"_

"_Not much," he answered. "Everything we have has been re-used too many times."_

_Hawk was the first to see their 'guest' slowly limping toward them. She was becoming a little more social as time went on, gradually becoming more acclimated to being around them. Maybe she still didn't trust them, but she didn't distrust them like she did when they first met. She wasn't a typical Dread Youth, that was for certain. She was interested in everything that was going on around her. It was as if she were seeing and hearing certain things for the first time – and that was probably the truth. "Hello there," Hawk said. _

"_Hello." She looked at the many circuits and gears scattered over the area, assessing them with a practiced eye, gauging the quality of the parts and the state of the repairs. "Can I help?"_

_She'd been more than helpful since she'd arrived and had healed enough to walk unassisted. No task was too overwhelming, demeaning, or unnecessary. She took pride in doing any task allowed her to perfection. Maybe that much was from the Dread Youth, but the desire to help certain wasn't. _

"_Sure. We're trying to repair these engines. We're not having much luck."_

_Jennifer looked at the ship and the parts. "It could use some restructuring and rewiring, but it should fly."_

"_Should, but she's not," Hawk agreed. "The ship's got some age on her and she's not as reliable as she used to be."_

_Jennifer looked at him oddly. "She?"_

_Hawk frowned. "She? Oh, she. Sometimes, inanimate objects are referred to as a she or a he, depending on what it is. It's just a figure of speech."_

_Jon watched their interaction from where he was sitting as he worked on a circuit. Every day, Jennifer revealed more about her life in the Dread Youth just by every day actions or comments. They learned more about what the Dread Youth didn't know as well. It had been an eye-opening experience. There were some things she wouldn't talk about, and they didn't know if she wasn't ready or if she didn't know she could talk about them. Whatever the answer was, they were willing to wait, to give her the chance to connect with her humanity. _

_She looked at the main engine, and pointed out a certain area to Hawk. "This motherboard can be repaired if we change out the main circuit. Do you have any vicon circuits?"_

_Jon had no idea what she was talking about. Luckily, Hawk did. "Yeah, but those are antiques. No one has used them for over thirty years."_

"_A vicon circuit is made of the same materials as the motherboard on the main processor that acts as the interface between the engine controls and the control console," she explained. "If we set up a direct link by rebuilding a vicon circuit to the motherboard's specifications and plugging it –"_

"_We could bypass several circuits that aren't working!" Scout said enthusiastically. "That's brilliant. It'll keep us flying until we can replace the burned out components," Scout looked at her appreciatively. "Do you know how to fly a ship, too?"_

"_Yes," she told him. "I have a Class Five rating."_

_Scout shook his head. "What's that mean?"_

_Hawk laughed. "In Dreadspeak, it means she can fly anything with wings." Hawk glanced back at Jon who nodded approvingly, and then he looked up at the ship. "Do you think you could get this bucket of bolts flying again? We've been doing repair work on her for a while now, but what she needs is someone who really understands how it all works together."_

_Jennifer looked at the ship. "I can try." Try. That was a word they had taught her how to use. In the Machine world, there was no concept of "try." It was either do or don't and failure was not an option. _

"_Great! How many vicon circuits do you think you'll need?"_

_Jennifer looked at the engine, at the worn circuitry, and the burned out components – it was going to be a rather involved repair job. "Several. Maybe more," she told him._

"_Then several you'll have," Hawk told her. He looked up at Tank and Scout. "Okay, we've got to go find those circuits. I'll take the storage room. Why don't you two go look through the discards to see if any are salvageable in there?"_

_As soon as they were alone, Jon stood and walked over to her. "Do you think there's hope for this ship?"_

_Either Jennifer didn't understand the question or she read a different meaning into it. "The ship is a machine, and machines can be repaired."_

"_Yeah, but this ship has seen better days."_

_Jennifer looked at the parts in need of repairs again. "And it's just a machine," she muttered more to herself than to Jon. "I never thought about it before."_

"_What's that?"_

"_We serve the Machine, but machines have to be maintained and repaired. If machines are all-powerful, why would they need repairing?"_

_Jon smiled. "I guess Dread didn't want you to think thoughts like that. It leads to more questions."_

_She reached down and picked up one of the worn out components. Jon could tell that she was still struggling with a lot of questions and concepts she'd never been exposed to before, trying to find out where she belonged in a world that she had never lived in or been a part of. She had been able to ask Mentor a lot of questions since Jon gave her access to allowed information in the database. He hadn't eavesdropped, but he did ask Mentor if Jennifer ever asked questions regarding classified information. She wanted to know about history, literature, music, art and philosophy. She wanted to know about life._

"_Then who's superior? Machines or organics? Machines have to be repaired but organics can be killed."_

"_Humans are superior," Jon told her gently. "Humans think and feel and breathe. Humans are flesh and blood. Machines are mindless metal tools that we use to help make life easier for us."_

_From the look Jennifer gave him, that was a concept she had never considered before. "Us?" she asked._

_Well, then again, maybe there was another concept she hadn't considered, not just the fact that machines were meant to help humanity, not rule them. "Us. Humans. You, me, Hawk, Scout, Tank, all the survivors of the wars – all of us."_

_The look in her eyes confused Jon. She frowned, then Jon added quickly, "We're human. Just like our parents were before us."_

_Jennifer looked down at her hand, and Jon saw her contemplate the complexity of it. "Organics are human," she muttered softly. "I'm organic."_

"_You're human," Jon corrected her with a smile. That was it. That was what confused her. She'd never considered herself human before. The Machine hadn't allowed that concept to be formed._

Dread's attempt to wipe out humanity wasn't just literal – he wanted to destroy the perception of being human as well.

Jennifer took a deep breath. "I didn't make the connection that I _was_ human until then."

Jon hadn't realized that a simple statement could be taken in such a way.

"You know, that's what I meant when I said you freed me from the Dread Youth," she commented. "You showed me I was human. I had never called myself that before." She almost laughed but coughed instead. "If I had realized that before I escaped, I don't know if I would have made the same decisions I did when I was alone in the wilderness. Maybe I would have looked for help instead of hiding."

Jon was beginning to see where she was going. "So you told Erin that she was human –"

"Like her parents before her. Flesh and blood. She didn't believe me, but I got her thinking. She has to realize that she's human and not a machine. Maybe she won't think that others are animals."

Jon listened to her voice. It was becoming a little more slurred. She was tiring quickly. "Animals?"

"Part of the training," she said. "Animals live… outside. They fight the will of the Machine."

Ah. Another part of Dread's belief system about the machine's superiority that he taught to his soldiers. "So maybe she'll realize the truth, and if she decides to escape, she'll have other options because she'll know she's human. She'll look for help from others. All because of you."

Jennifer closed her eyes again and leaned her head against the chair. Jon looked at her, assimilating this new information for a moment. She had tried so many times to get through to a single Dread Youth, and now that she did, she was worried about what happened afterwards. Was the cadet safe? Was she worrying that anyone who looked at her could see she was no longer a loyal Dread Youth? Could she escape if she chose to? Would she? Would she be alone or would she seek out help? None of them had asked themselves those questions.

Maybe they should have.

"You did good," he told her.

She barely nodded her head, clearly unable to fight the fatigue any longer. Jon watched her for a few minutes, listening to her easier breathing, grateful she was going to be okay. Everything was going to be all right – he couldn't have said that just yesterday, not when she was in the grips of a high fever.

In all the conversations they had shared, whether it was over a chess game or while they were running maintenance on the jump ship, she'd never once seemed scared. Angry, yes. Frustrated, definitely. Scared? Never. Yet, the punishment she could have faced if she had been caught… there was no limit to her courage. How many missions had she proven how fearless she was? Too many to count. Jon himself was alive because of her willingness to face any danger, no matter the situation.

He reached out and took her hand. There were so many things he would like to say to her, let her know…

Jon noticed that Jennifer was falling asleep again. There would be time to talk later, when she was well again, when the war didn't stand between them. "Come on, back to your bunk," he said as he gently lifted her to her feet and helped her to lie back down. He covered her with the blanket and then placed another glass of water on the nearby table. He felt her forehead one more time as she curled up on her side. Her fever was almost gone. "Get some more sleep. I think you'll feel a lot better when you wake up."

Before he left, he dimmed the lights and took a last look at her. She was already sound asleep. She was breathing easier, the fever was lower, and she was alive. So many others weren't so lucky, but she was. He felt that he was also a lucky man. Jennifer was there, alive and almost well. The influenza didn't take her from him. The mission itself had been full of dangers he'd been unaware of, but were they worth it? Did the end justify the risks? She got the vaccine, a lot of people would survive, Jennifer had escaped the med lab virtually unscathed and maybe, just maybe, there was one more Dread Youth who realized she didn't belong.

Just like Jennifer did.

After all the times Jennifer had told a Dread Youth soldier the truth, one listened. It was a success that Jennifer had tried so hard for so long to achieve, and she did.

For her sake, for Jennifer's sake, Jon hoped the cadet didn't just listen but heard her as well.

Now, he had to find out which Resistance group had created the disease that almost cost him Jennifer.

**Volcania**

Every infirmary bed was filled. The influenza had passed beyond Med Lab One and infected other Dread facilities until Dread _contained_ it. For the Dread forces, the price had been high.

Lord Dread walked through the infirmary, looking for the one cadet who could answer his questions. Finally, he reached the infirmary bed with Cadet Erin. She was recovering from both the influenza and the wound in her leg.

"Cadet Erin," Dread said in a low voice so he wouldn't disturb any of the other patients.

The cadet opened her eyes. Dread had expected to see a surprised look on her face – after all, how often did Lord Dread himself visit a mere cadet in an infirmary? Still, the look was not one of surprise. It was one of confusion. Perhaps she was still suffering from a fever?

Erin cleared her throat. "Lord Dread. My apologies. I didn't realize you were here."

Her voice sounded a bit… unimpressed… with his arrival. Even the apology seemed to be an afterthought. _It must be the fever,_ Dread thought to himself. "No apologies are necessary, Cadet. However, I would like you to describe your attacker, the one who infiltrated the base."

There was a slight hesitation on Erin's part, as if she were trying to find the right words. Dread attributed her lack of automatic response to the fatigue brought on by her illness and wound. "I'm not certain that the person who attacked me infiltrated the base, my lord," she said, her voice a bit shaky and weak. "It was a female, much older than me, with darker hair and darker eyes."

That was a surprise. "Are you certain? This person did not look as if she could be a member of the Dread Youth?"

Erin shook her head. "No, my lord. It was also dark, so I could not see her face clearly, but I don't believe she could have ever been a Dread Youth."

"I see," Dread sighed. He had so hoped… "Do you believe that this organic was working with another?"

"With such a logistical attack, I don't know how it could have been less than two people, my lord, but I saw only her."

Disappointing, but Erin was a Dread Youth, sworn to obey Dread. There was no doubt that she believed what she said. "Thank you, Cadet. You did well."

"Thank you, my lord."

Erin watched Dread march off with his expectations not quite fulfilled. She had never before been in Dread's presence, and merely days before, it would have been the highlight of her career. Now, she didn't want to be in the same building with him. Once, the thought of not telling the absolute truth would have horrified her. Now, she felt no compulsion to let Dread know the identity of the intruder.

The more she thought about what the intruder said, the more she questioned. If she was a Dread Youth, of the Body Electric, loyal to Dread, to be his fists so he can make the world perfect, then how could she be human? Yet she was human, an organic. She was the same as those the biodreads and Dread Youth hunted down. She had once had parents – human parents. She was flesh and blood, just like the soldier said.

She looked around the infirmary and saw – really saw for the first time – the people around her. She watched the technicians, the doctors, the other patients, the guards, all of them. Some performed their assigned duties with precise skill, with no wasted motions. So many moved with the 'efficiency of the machine.' Yet there were others… for the first time in her young life, Erin really looked at how people were behaving, how they reacted, the look in their eyes. How could she not have realized that blind loyalty to Dread was not universal? There was the blank stare of the guard standing watch at the door, the look of annoyance in the eyes of the doctor, utter defiance in one of the recovering Dread Youth soldiers. The defiant look of that Dread Youth was the same rebellious one she saw in Power's soldier. When the soldier looked at Erin, he blinked, and the defiant look disappeared immediately. He didn't look at Erin after that.

He doubted. Someone else doubted. Erin was sure of that.

If the wrong people thought that anyone doubted, the results would be catastrophic.

She listened as well. Some were muttering words meant to show their loyalty to the Machine. A few days earlier, that was her spouting off a litany to the soldier who bandaged her leg. She'd believed every word until the soldier recited the litany from memory as well. A Dread Youth fighting the Machine Empire? Saying that it was all a lie? How could that be possible? Yet every word the soldier said got Erin thinking. The more she thought, the more anxious she became.

She was thinking and feeling – the soldier had been right. Dread told them feelings were bad, but the feelings she was experiencing weren't bad. They were alerting her to something… some new thoughts that would have never before entered her mind.

Erin had so many questions, but there was one answer that she knew without a doubt.

She didn't belong there anymore.


	16. Chapter 15a And Madness Shall Reign

_Author's note: This episode focused a great deal on Hawk and Tank's relationship as well as Dread's current project. It also brought up various questions and a few plot bunnies that didn't exactly co-exist peacefully in a single story. In an effort to answer these questions and find a Jon/Jen slant to the episode, I've split the tag up into two parts. Part 1 takes place two days after the events in the episode. Part 2 takes place one week after._

**Afterwards – Episode 15 - And Madness Shall Reign – Part 1**

_Tank ingests an insanity-inducing drug hidden in the water at Cipher's Resistance base, a site chosen by Dread for experimentation. Hawk is forced to stop Tank on his own while Jon, Pilot and Scout try to stop Dread from putting the same drug in a major water supply._

**Power Base – Night Time  
Two days after the mission**

There was an old saying that went through Hawk's mind – _For this I went to college?_

Ah, college. Hawk remembered those days fondly. His college days were spent at the Air Force Academy, and those were some of the best times of his life. Jump school, flight training… the work was hard, the days were long, the studying was intense, but he loved it. He excelled at the academic life and passed with some of the highest marks in his class. He didn't spend all his time being a 'good little student' though. No, indeed. He had his fun as well. There were the occasional off-campus parties, the all-night movie marathons, the trips to the karaoke bar to sing 1960's tunes, but whether it was work or fun, those days taught him a great deal. He learned everything from how to parachute in the dead of night to how to fly a jet upside down, and he'd used all that he learned in some form or another fighting the war.

Unfortunately, the Academy never taught him how to deal with a drug-induced genetically enhanced human tank that could kick the crap out of him and break him like a twig. Every muscle he had was sore.

It had been a busy couple of days. First, they had to fight the biomechs in Cipher's base, and then he had to go one-on-one against Soaron when they were making their escape – why didn't he fly the XT instead of taking the biobird head-on? His sore muscles let him know that flying on his own was _not _a good idea. Later, Tank thought Hawk and Jennifer were biodreads and blasted them across the hallway, stunning them unconscious, pulling even more muscles and leaving a few more bruises. Then Jon told him to hunt down and take on a drugged Tank all by himself. Right – all he had to do was stop someone who was bigger, stronger and equipped with enough firepower to down a warlord battalion. There wasn't a maneuver to counter that in any rulebook he'd ever studied, and it certainly wasn't covered in any of his Academy classes. It was a good thing the drug wore off before Tank actually did break him like a twig.

Come to think of it, it had been a _very_ busy couple of days.

He felt another twinge in his shoulder. As he reached up and rubbed the muscle, he thought he might have pulled another one. "Face it, Matt, you're not as young as you used to be," he told himself.

Hawk stopped outside Tank's quarters and quietly eased the door open to check on him. The big guy was still sleeping. Of all of them, why did it have to be the one who was as strong as an ox to get drugged? If it had been anyone else, the entire twig-breaking scenario wouldn't have been an issue. No, there would have been other problems to deal with like Scout's skill with explosives or Jon's uncanny tactical ability to outfox his enemies or Jennifer's hand-to-hand fighting prowess – watching someone her size take down a soldier Tank's size and strength with relative ease was still as impressive as it was the first time he saw her do it. Maybe Jon should have let Jennifer go after Tank?

"Yeah, right. That would never happen," he whispered.

_That would never happen…_

Hawk stopped. A new thought crossed his mind, one he hadn't truly considered. _That would never happen. _Matt had never doubted Jon's command style or his ability to make on-the-spot decisions. He was good at detaching himself emotionally when he ordered people into dangerous situations. Every mission was a gamble, and they all knew the risks each time they flew out of the base. How would Jon's behavior change if he and Jennifer became a couple? When they did? It would add an entirely new emotional level to every mission for him. Could he send someone he cared so much about into a situation where they could be killed?

Had his feelings already kept him from making the "right" decision?

So far, Hawk hadn't detected any untoward or obvious overprotective behavior from Jon when it came to assigning missions to Jennifer. Worry, concern, unease, anxiety and apprehension – he had exhibited those behaviors when she was on a mission from time to time, but he hadn't shown an overwhelming need to protect her by refusing to let her go. Tech City? Jon, Scout or Jennifer could have easily jacked into the web, but Jon had chosen to do it himself, but that didn't raise any real suspicion on Hawk's part. MedLab One? None of them wanted Jennifer going in there for obvious reasons. Any of them would have rather taken the chance, but she was the only one who could sneak in undetected and hide in plain sight. Jon's misgivings had a foundation: a former youth leader who betrayed the Machine walking right back into one of the labs? One wrong move, and they could have lost her. Still, as always, Jon immediately assessed the situation and agreed with her that she was the only one who could get into the chem lab. The more Hawk thought about it, the more he realized that Jon wasn't letting his emotions get in the way - yet. He was perhaps a little more cautious when Jennifer had to sneak into a Dread base on her own, but that was all. Maybe his worries were unnecessary? Still, that didn't mean he was going to leave Jennifer alone at a base with a drug-induced genetically enhanced human tank that could kick the crap out of her and break her like a twig. Never mind that Jon needed a pilot to fly the jumpship to the missile launch site…

_Needed a pilot…_

"That sneak," Hawk whispered to himself. It was another concept Hawk hadn't realized - Jon was pairing up with Jennifer on more missions lately. When had that started? Hawk mentally counted back the missions they'd gone on in the last few months. It was right around the time Jon was contacted by Athena Samuels – and Hawk had just noticed that? Why hadn't he seen that? There seemed to be a lot going on right under his nose that he wasn't seeing. Maybe it really was time for retirement?

Perhaps meeting Athena Samuels again opened Jon's eyes to what was right in front of him. Hawk remembered her when she was Stuart's lab assistant. She was a nice enough young lady, intelligent, outgoing, intuitive, and she and Jon had a strong friendship. As far as Hawk knew, the relationship never ventured beyond that. When Jon met up with her after she'd been reintegrated, Hawk didn't notice any type of behavior between them that indicated that they had anything other than a previously strong friendship.

When Jon was younger, he wasn't prone to establishing long-term romances. There were many reasons such as there was a war going on, he had to fight, he was a primary target – the list went on and on. Somewhere, sometime, something changed. Maybe it was seeing Athena again or it was the added risks from Project New Order, but whatever it was, something had changed Jon's outlook and had him considering something long-term. He was spending more time with Jennifer whether it was playing chess or pairing off on missions – and absolutely none of it seemed out of the ordinary or surprising. Maybe it was the most inconspicuous way to spend time together? Maybe it was the way Jon planned it? Hawk was going to have to think about that. After all, Jon's tactical skills allowed him to formulate long term plans that worked out no matter the odds.

And that led Hawk back to Tank. Did Jon think that Hawk had the best chance of stopping him? He and Tank had a relaxed sort of friendship. They were the oldest in the group and had lived during the same times. There was a commonality in their background, and that helped forge the foundation of a special friendship. There was an equality due to age and experience that the others didn't share, and they could talk with each other in a way that had nothing to do with rank or position. Perhaps that allowed Hawk to get through to Tank more easily, drugs notwithstanding? Maybe Jon was counting on that ability to pull Tank through his drug-induced haze and back into reality? Whatever Jon's reasoning, it had worked. Tank was going to be fine, and Hawk was still in one piece.

Hawk took one last look inside to make certain Tank was still sleeping, then he closed the door and strolled toward the control room, walking slow enough so he wouldn't aggravate his sore muscles. It was his shift on night watch. Although he was more of a morning person, Hawk liked night watch every now and then. The nights could be long and boring, but it gave him the quiet and solitude to think things through when confusing thoughts were running through his head. It also gave him the chance to talk with Mentor. Sometimes, that hologram seemed more like Stuart Power than a computer program. It was almost like having his friend back. Years earlier, he and Stuart worked long hours building the base, and they would pass the time away by talking about everything from the most critical subjects pertaining to the world's survival to who was going to win that weekend's football game. Stuart Power had a wry, subtle sense of humor that worked well with Matt's more outgoing one – at least, before the wars started, when life was a lot more peaceful. They'd talk about anything, and it allowed their minds a temporary distraction from all the problems they faced. Speaking with Mentor about absolutely inane subjects reminded Hawk of those days.

Inanity aside, there were several questions about the latest mission that they hadn't been able to answer yet and they were preying on Hawk's mind. He hoped a serious conversation with Mentor could help answer them. How did Dread find Cipher's base? How was the water drugged? Why did Dread use a resistance base for his experiment instead of some unprotected settlement? Dread was the type of person who always had a plan even if the plan didn't make sense.

Sense. _Right, Matt. Try to make sense out of someone who wants to be mentally stuffed in a robot shell._ That was something Hawk hadn't been able to figure out for fifteen years.

Jon could usually figure out what Dread was doing, but even this last mission had him baffled. It wasn't so much _what_ Dread was doing but _why_ he planned it the way he did. It didn't make sense. Dread normally destroyed resistance forces. He didn't use them for experiments. Besides, there were countless other settlements he could have used for his experiment. Why Cipher's personnel?

Once Cipher had recovered from the drug, Jon was planning on going back to his base to look around. Maybe Dread left some sort of clue as to why he planned the experiment the way he did. Whatever the reason, it could be important.

Hawk finally reached the control room. Good thing – he really needed to sit down. His sore muscles weren't going to carry him much further. Scout was running a few diagnostics on certain file systems as he and Mentor talked about nothing important.

"I must disagree, Sergeant Baker," Mentor looked down from the holographic beam, seemingly quite relaxed. "Although he was impervious to almost any weapon, practically invulnerable, his abilities were innate due to his being born on another planet. He was in no danger. The other gentleman was merely human and as fragile as any other yet he risked his life to apprehend criminals."

"But he was just as strong," Scout pointed out. "They even had them duke it out once, and I think it was a tie."

Strong humans? Other planets? Hawk leaned against the console. "What are you two talking about?"

"Superheroes," Scout answered. "Superman, Spiderman and Batman mostly."

"Superheroes?" Hawk asked as he rolled his eyes. Did he even want to know?

"Yeah," Scout nodded with a grin. "Tell us what you think - Batman was a human with an incredible intellect who used all kinds of gadgets to get the bad guys, but like all humans, he was vulnerable. His suit gave him his edge. Spiderman was a human who was bit by a radioactive spider. He was strong and could make a spider web and swing all over the city, but a bullet could have stopped him. His suit wasn't bulletproof. Superman didn't have much to worry about because only kryptonite could hurt him even though Lex Luthor kept getting his hands on it. Taking all that into consideration, who do you think was the toughest superhero?"

Hawk looked at Scout, glanced up at Mentor, then asked, "You two are actually arguing about which comic book superhero was the toughest?"

"Toughest, bravest, who was risking the most… yeah," Scout answered.

Poor Mentor. He was on the other side of how many absurd conversations? Maybe he enjoyed it? Maybe it kept him from getting bored? Did holograms get bored? Hawk would have to ask him sometime. It was a good thing there wasn't a contest to see who could come up with the most ridiculous topics to talk about. Scout would probably win hands down. Fortunately, this was one such conversation that Hawk could join in easily. "Simple. None of them. Ordinary superheroes like the Lone Ranger were the toughest."

"The Lone Ranger?" Scout asked, disbelieving. "He was just a guy in a mask. He wasn't a superhero."

"Don't think so?" Hawk glanced up at Mentor who was smiling and nodding. Sometimes, that hologram really did seem more human than computer. "Like you said, Batman had a suit that helped deflect bullets and a car that outdistanced anything on the road plus a utility belt with every weapon he could think of. Spiderman was a little more than human. He could crawl up walls and swing through the buildings. He also had his spidey-sense warning him of danger. Superman? There wasn't much that was a threat to him so there was nothing he had to be brave for when he faced it. Now, the Lone Ranger? Simple, ordinary man, a Texas Ranger, no armor, no utility belt, only silver bullets and a really good aim. He had his best friend Tonto and their two smart horses, Silver and Scout. He had everything to worry about but he still went out every day and fought the bad guys. He was just as vulnerable as the next person."

Mentor nodded his head. "I agree."

"You don't think Superman was tougher?" Scout asked them. "And there was a horse named Scout?"

Hawk smiled. "Superman was tougher only because of his dense molecular structure. He wasn't tough because he had to be. It came natural to him," Hawk explained. "What brought this up anyway?"

Scout punched in a few more commands as he began a deeper diagnostic. "Well, the conversation sort of ballooned into superheroes. We started out talking about how tough Tank is and how hard it must have been for you to not get in the way of his fists. Then we started talking about what would have happened if any of the rest of us had drank the water and –"

"I was wondering about that too," Hawk said. "Only I didn't have any superheroes coming into the conversation. What did you two come up with?"

"That it was probably a good thing it was Tank since we know what to expect from him in a fight even though the guy's practically unstoppable," Scout told him. "Think about it – if it came down to a fight between any two of us, how would we pair up?"

"Not well," Hawk knew that to be a fact. "I asked myself that earlier. All of us have different fighting skills, so what would have happened if any one of us drank that water? Or if all of us did?"

Scout leaned back in his seat and thought for a moment. "We would have killed each other. Maybe that was what Dread wanted to do with Cipher's group."

"Have them kill each other?" Hawk said aloud. "That could be it. Dread's always trying to undermine the Resistance. That'd be one way to do it, but Dread had to know what his drug would do to people once they were exposed to it, right?"

"You'd think," Scout agreed. "Any idea why the captain had you go after Tank alone?"

Hawk shrugged. "You know Jon. He has his own reasons for doing things."

"No kidding." Scout put another disk into Mentor and ran a secondary diagnostic. "Before I met you guys, you already had a reputation for doing some off-the-wall attacks against Dread. No one could ever figure out what the captain was going to do next. They just knew he was going to do something original."

"Good entertainment, huh?" Hawk asked as he watched the monitor.

"Oh, yeah." Scout shut down Mentor's hologram while the rest of the diagnostic ran to save on processor power. "Was he always good at being sneaky?"

Hawk laughed. "You have no idea. He and Mitch would do all sorts of things when they were kids and come up with some of the most elaborate schemes to stay out of trouble. And Katie? She'd be right there with them. Me, Joanna, Stuart and Morgana had no idea how certain things were happening because they'd covered their tracks pretty well. None of us ever figured out exactly how Jon's plans worked."

Scout leaned forward and asked in a sneaky way, "Think he's still covering his tracks?"

Now that sounded strange. "What do you mean?"

"I found this file hidden in a subfolder of a rarely used program." Scout pulled up the file in question, then turned the monitor so Hawk could see it. In a whisper, Scout said, "It took a while, but I finally got Mentor to tell me what it is. He and the captain are making some books for Jennifer for her birthday. We don't have these particular ones in our library."

Hawk read the file. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few months," Scout explained. "Mentor's recoded some books from binary into English. He used a small amount of power and placed them in this one subfolder so it wouldn't show up when Jennifer ran her diagnostics. I've missed it for months during mine. The captain got the raw materials for Mentor so he can actually print and bind a book. He just hasn't had time to do it yet."

Hawk smiled. Jon was getting serious if he was thinking up elaborate birthday presents. "Those sneaks."

"And we can't tell Jennifer," Scout told him. "They want it to be a surprise."

A surprise. Surprises had never been part of the Dread Youth upbringing. Everything was rooted in routines and protocols and schedules. As much as her description of life in the Dread Youth was a surprise to them, it paled in comparison to Jennifer's experiences those first few months she was with them. Everyday life had been one surprise after another for her, so it took her a while to learn to enjoy happy surprises like birthday gifts. "It'll be easy enough for us to not say anything," Hawk mused. "If Jon finds out we know, he'll have us on KP for a month," he laughed. One thing was certain; Jennifer would love to have her very own books.

Scout looked around and listened. Satisfied that no one was approaching the control room, he said in a low voice, "Hawk, let me ask you something. You know Jon better than any of us. Why hasn't he said something to Jennifer already? It's almost like he's nervous, and I've never seen him nervous about anything. And one thing we know about the captain is he's not shy, especially around women. He's had girlfriends before. We've met a couple of them over the years. He even handled Mindsinger like a pro, but around Jennifer - what is it about her that's got him jumpy?"

Hawk didn't have to consider his answer. He knew why Jon was a bit anxious. It was a reason he was well acquainted with himself. "Because it's the first time he's been serious about anyone special," Hawk said in a low voice. "He had a whole string of girlfriends when he was younger, but he wasn't serious about any of them. He was playing the same game all of us have played at some point or another, but they were just flings. He was a young man sowing some wild oats and getting it out of his system. When one of them got serious about him, he'd behave like a gentleman but he'd let them know he wasn't looking for anything long term."

"And all of us think he's looking for something long term with Jennifer." That seemed to resonate with Scout. "So she's the first one that's special, huh?"

"Special enough to use precious resources to make books for her birthday," Hawk told him with a smile. "But it's more than that. Jon didn't want to get close to anyone after Stuart was killed. Once we had the base established and we started looking for people to be on the team, he let himself become friends with a few people, young ladies included, but most were never more than strong acquaintances. It was all a game, and they were all pretty good at playing it. Then we found Jennifer, and she doesn't play any of those games. She grew up in the Dread Youth, so there's no way she'd know how. She's pretty straightforward and honest, and trust me, Jon's never met anyone like that before her. To tell you the truth, I don't think either one knows what the next step is – which is why we're helping them along," Hawk grinned at the thought. This was the first time Jon was involved in a serious relationship. He wouldn't want to mess anything up with the first person he had real feelings for, and he wouldn't want to do anything that would hurt her.

"It just seems out of character, if you ask me," Scout added. "Jonathan Power, completely confused about what to do next?"

With a grin, Hawk said, "That's nothing. You should have seen me before I got up the nerve to ask Joanna out on our first date. It took me almost a month to actually walk up to her, and then I bit my tongue and practically tripped over my own feet."

"You?" Scout asked, incredulously. "I wouldn't think you had any trouble getting dates."

"She wasn't just any lady," Hawk reminded him. "Joanna was special. She was working on a dual PhD in geology and geophysics; she was in the top two percent of her class. She interned with a couple of the really famous scientists at the time. One was named Atwater, I think. She was already published before she got her Masters -"

"Wait," Scout interrupted him. "Joanna was a scientist?"

Hawk nodded. "Met her at this scientific symposium. Stuart was the guest speaker, and since I had just got back after being deployed for over a year, he asked me to come along as part of the security detail."

"And you went," Scout concluded.

"Absolutely. The fact it was being held for two weeks in Hawaii had nothing to do with my decision," Hawk smiled at the memory. "Anyway, every time I tried to talk to with her, I made a fool out of myself. Stuart finally took pity on me and invited her to dinner with us. Still took me a couple of weeks after we got back to the mainland to ask her out myself."

Scout chuckled. "Come on, Hawk, seriously?"

Hawk saw that Scout didn't believe him. "Just you wait, mister. Your time's coming. One day, you're going to meet someone and make a total fool of yourself trying to make a good impression."

"I've met a few women in my time," Scout countered. "Haven't had any problems yet."

"I didn't either until I met Joanna."

Scout took a deep breath, then said, "I've been thinking – do you have any idea how it would affect things if they did get together? It'd change things around here."

"A little, I know," Hawk said, a tinge of worry in his voice. "We're a team, and it could harm that. I know that what's happening between them isn't casual. It's serious. But I also know those two. The mission comes first."

"Could the captain stay objective?" Scout asked him. "Sometimes, he gets a little overprotective about all of us, but if they got together -"

"It could be a concern," Hawk agreed, "but let's face it, there's no stopping Jennifer when she wants to do something. Jon didn't want her going into MedLab One, and Jennifer had to talk him into it. She was brilliant. She used his own logic against him. She's just as sneaky as he is, but have you noticed that it's usually when she has to go into Dread bases alone that _he_ gets overprotective? Any other type of mission and he doesn't worry nearly as much."

Scout thought about that. His eyes widened as he made the same realization. "You're right. I hadn't noticed that. Why do you think it's those missions in particular?"

Hawk shook his head. "I think she's told him something about being in the Dread Youth that she hasn't told the rest of us, and that something puts her in greater danger."

"He didn't start acting that way until recently, so whatever it is, it's new," Scout pointed out.

"Must be."

"We know she can take care of herself, so do you think there's a reason he didn't let Jennifer deal with Tank?" the smirk on his face showed he was joking.

Hawk smiled, leaned back and crossed his arms. "An angry Tank could snap someone like a twig, but we've seen Jennifer beat someone Tank's size in hand-to-hand combat. No, I think Jon just wanted her on the mission with the two of you. In case you haven't been paying attention, he's been pairing up with her on more missions lately."

Scout had noticed that. "More and more," he answered. The computer dinged. "And my diagnostic is done. Everything looks good," Scout announced. He punched a few buttons. "That'll hide that file Mentor and the captain are using so Jennifer won't find it easily. And with that said, I'm going to get some sleep. You and Mentor can keep each other company."

After Scout left, Hawk sat back and listened to the low whirring of the computers. Scout had brought up concerns that Hawk had considered as well. Things could change dramatically on the team if Jon and Jennifer became a couple. Then, if their relationship fell apart, that would destroy the team. It was a risky gamble, but there was more to Hawk's matchmaking than he'd let on. He'd watched Jon grow up. He knew his personality and his disposition. When he realized that Jon and Jennifer were noticing each other, albeit unconsciously, he saw the real Jonathan Power again. For so long, Jon had been Captain Power, a Resistance fighter. Then, all of a sudden, "Jon" was back. The sneaky, mischievous boy who would cover his tracks when he was _playful_ was starting to show himself. Even his words and phrases became more humorous and sarcastic at times. Every now and then, he'd see this expression on Jon's face that reminded him of the days when he was younger and was concocting some kind of plan. Jennifer, a young woman who had to regain her humanity, had been the catalyst for the transformation.

The mature man was not nearly as standoffish as the younger man had become, and his feelings for others had matured as well. Jon was looking for a future, not a fling, and whether he knew it or not, his heart had chosen Jennifer.

What Hawk saw that what was between the two was real, and given the two young people's backgrounds, their experiences and their situation, a little matchmaking would be necessary to put them together – and it gave him, Scout and Tank something to talk about other than baseball scores just like Vi had predicted.

Speaking of talking and knowing he had a long night ahead of him, Hawk pushed a button and Mentor appeared. "Major Masterson. What would you like to talk about?"

Hawk thought for a moment. He had so many serious questions about their recent mission, so many thoughts he'd like to discuss… then he saw Stuart's face staring down at him with a slight grin. _Aw, the heck with it._ The temptation was too great. "Superheroes. Do you really think Spiderman was the toughest?"

The End


	17. Chapter 15b And Madness Shall Reign

_Author's note: This episode focused a great deal on Hawk and Tank's relationship as well as Dread's current project. It also brought up various questions and a few plot bunnies that didn't exactly co-exist peacefully in a single story. In an effort to answer these questions and find a Jon/Jen slant to the episode, I've split the tag up into two parts. Part 1 takes place two days after the events in the episode. Part 2 takes place one week after._

**Afterwards – Episode 15 - And Madness Shall Reign – Part 2**

_Tank ingests an insanity-inducing drug found in the water of Cipher's resistance base, a site chosen by Dread for experimentation. Hawk is forced to stop Tank on his own while Jon, Pilot and Scout try to stop Dread from putting the same drug in a major water supply._

**Power Base  
One week after the mission**

"_Database journal 47-8 Mark 22. Supplemental entry. Captain reporting."_

Jon stopped. He didn't know quite what to say for the journal follow-up of their latest mission. No, that wasn't correct. He knew what happened, knew what he had to report, but for the first time in a long time, there was more to a mission than just what happened. There was some underlying danger that he couldn't put his finger on. To put it in rather ironic terms, he felt a new sense of dread.

There was something _different_ about the mission. He felt like there was something he should pay attention to, but he wasn't certain what it was. He didn't know why. It really wasn't any different from other missions lately.

For almost a year, his database journals had the distinction of a recurring theme – missions had become repetitive. Dread planned something, there was a fight, the team stopped him, there were a few injuries, everyone made it back to the base, game over. Repeat everything next time. It reminded Jon of an old saying of Albert Einstein's that the definition of insanity was doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. It seemed Dread fell into that definition.

Unfortunately, Jon had to keep a record of it all, no matter how repetitive it was.

Updating database journals was not one of the perks of a team leader's job. They were a necessary evil, but keeping track of all activities was a task Jon filed under the description 'tedious and thankless.'

Maybe he could give the job to Hawk? He was a major, after all…

In any case, their last mission wasn't quite as repetitive as the previous ones. No, there was something worrying him, something intangible he couldn't quite put into words. Yet. He felt like he was overlooking something.

Enough stalling. This wasn't getting the entry into the journal.

Jon thought for a moment – maybe he could gain a little inspiration if he listened to the opening journal entry for the overall mission again. He brought up the particular recording and listened to his own voice.

"_Database journal 47-8 Mark 16. Captain reporting._

_Intercepted data indicates Dread has targeted the resistance group led by Cipher for some sort of test. As we have been unable to reach Cipher, we have entered his base hoping to warn him."_

This time, Dread showed an even sneakier side of himself than Jon knew existed. He had found Cipher's base, but instead of destroying it or capturing them, he'd used them for an experiment…

**Cipher's Base – A Day Earlier**

Cipher gathered up all the remaining canteens and stacked them against the wall in the control room. "Good thing that stuff wore off after a few days," he muttered. "I don't know what was worse – all of us trying to kill each other or Tank trying to go kill all of you. Damage might have been about the same."

Jon shrugged. "Either way, it wasn't pleasant. What did the analysis show?"

Cipher looked at the sensor. "Looks like the drug degrades in the water at the same rate it does in the human body. The water's clean." He took a quick glance at the canteens. "I'm not drinking it though."

Scout looked up from the computer screen. "Good idea. At least Dread is consistently single minded. He puts one plan in play and doesn't have any surprises if it goes off script."

Cipher frowned. "You mean he only put the drug in the water and didn't have any contingencies?"

"Not his style," Jon reminded him. "Let's see what the others have found." Jon switched on his transmitter. "Hawk, anything?"

"_A lot of the clickers are gone, Jon,"_ Hawk answered back. _"It looks like some were dragged out of here, and I found some strange looking tracks. I think it was Blastarr. I don't know why he was here unless he took the clickers for some reason."_

"They may have been looking for survivors or getting information out of the computers." Jon shook his head. Trying to stop that biodread was one of the hardest tasks they had. Their blasters had limited affect on him. Even the explosion at Haven didn't destroy it. What would? He knew that not destroying Blastarr would come back to haunt them some day.

"They didn't get anything," Scout assured Cipher and Power. "None of the computer files have been touched since before all this happened."

Cipher just shook his head. "They come into a Resistance base and don't get any information? That doesn't make sense."

"They were after something else," Jon explained. "Whatever it was, let's hope they didn't find it." He pressed his communicator again. "Pilot?"

"_No sign of anything strange in the hangar bay, Captain."_

"Tank?"

"_There's no sign of any tampering on the water pumps or purifiers."_

Jon sighed. They'd searched the base several times, but they had found nothing that indicated how Dread could have found Cipher's base or how he got the chemical into their water supply.

"Makes no sense," Cipher muttered as he helped Scout check through the computer logs again. "There's no way Dread could have found our base. Every security measure you can imagine is in place. The only other people who knew about this place were you guys, and I know you didn't tell anyone."

"Could you have been followed after your last mission?" Jon asked.

Cipher thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "We'd have seen something. Sensors would have picked up movement if anything was out there. There weren't any biomechs or biodreads on the scanner. No sign of anyone watching. As far as we could tell, it was an ordinary operation and everything went pretty smoothly."

Scout found something on the computer database. "Cipher, what was your last mission?"

"Gathering Intel," he said quickly. "We met up with an informant and he gave us some data disks that he stole out of one of the Dread labs north of here. When we took a look, some had some good usable information on them. Shipping schedules, troop movements, things like that."

"I hope you made some backups of the information." Scout pointed toward the remains of destroyed disks lying all around them. "Something heavy walked all over them," he suggested as he picked up one lying on the console. "This is the only one left intact. I found this one still in the disk drive."

Cipher picked up the disk. "Yeah, right. Nothing important was on it. At first, we thought it was blank but another check showed there was one small unencoded file," he told them.

"It read blank the first time?" Scout didn't quite believe that. He took the disk and quickly inserted it back into the computer. He punched the buttons to begin a quick disk check.

The first result came back as a blank disk, but Scout reconfigured the diagnostic reader and re-ran it. That time, the result was a mostly blank disk, but there was something there. "It's what I thought," he told them as he analyzed the findings. "Dread doesn't keep blank disks lying around. There's something on there, but it's not even what I'd call a file. It's something… else."

"What do you mean?" Jon asked.

Scout punched a few more buttons and a new analysis showed on the monitor. "For lack of a better term, I'd say it's a sound file, only it doesn't emit a normal sound. It's more like a sub-electronic blip that only pings once."

That didn't sound good. Jon glanced at the readout. "Is it active?"

Scout checked again. "One blip when the computer checked the disk. That's all."

Cipher leaned over toward the monitor and studied the analysis. "Sub-electronic blip? What good is that?"

Jon had a hunch. He spoke into his radio again. "Pilot, can you come back to the command center?"

There was a brief pause, then she answered,_ "On my way."_

Cipher looked at him curiously. "What are you thinking, Jon?"

"I hope what I'm thinking is wrong. How much do you trust this informant?"

Cipher didn't have to consider the question. "With my life. I've known him since before the Metal Wars. We served in the Navy together for five years on the same ship. Why?"

"If Dread didn't find your base accidentally, then it's possible someone may have used your informant to get to you," Jon explained. "How did he get the disks?"

"One of his contacts told him that a Dread lab had been abandoned and scavengers were taking what they could. He checked it out, and he brought me the data disks. He couldn't read them since the equipment at the lab had already been taken by the scavengers."

Scout glanced back at Power. "Think it was a setup?"

"Maybe," Jon answered. "Think about it. Dread mysteriously finds a hidden resistance base and uses it for an experiment instead of destroying it and taking everyone prisoner? That doesn't make any sense since there are a lot of settlements he could have used for his experiment instead. I think he wanted a resistance base for a specific reason, and no, I don't know why."

Cipher thought the idea had some merit. "Maybe he was checking out our security? But that wouldn't do him any good since we all set up different security programs for the bases."

"Possibly," Jon agreed, "but those biomechs walked right in after we arrived, and I know we reactivated the security system when we got in the tunnel. That disk may have something to do with the attack. That's why I want Pilot to take a quick look at the analysis. She may have some idea what it is."

"How?" Cipher asked.

Although Jennifer's Dread Youth past wasn't a secret, Jon wasn't comfortable talking about it if he wasn't certain someone already knew. Jon smiled. "Pilot is very good with computers and programs. She's seen some that very few others have."

"Captain?"

Jon turned at the sound of Jennifer's voice. She walked out of the tunnel into the control room. Although it wasn't professional and it was hardly the time, Jon couldn't help noticing a few changes. One in particular was that she was wearing her hair down. That was very uncommon when they were working with other resistance groups. She usually wore it back in a ponytail. Years ago, Jon thought that the ponytail might have reminded her of having to wear her hair up when she was a Dread Youth and gave her some sense of 'familiarity' which led to a feeling of having some control. It took months before she felt comfortable enough with the team to wear her hair down. Regardless, she seemed to be more socially confident lately, and Jon found that very appealing.

"Cipher's informant gave him a data disk that has a sound file on it rather than a program. I was hoping you'd seen something like it before," he explained.

Jennifer paused for a moment and listened to some sound that Jon didn't hear. "Pilot?"

"I thought I heard a low hum," she mentioned as she walked over to the console and looked at the monitor. She scanned the readout and then re-ran the systems check on the data disk. She immediately took her gun out of its holster. "Did the computer play the sound before?" she asked Scout quickly.

"Yeah. One blip when I checked it. Why?"

She looked over at Cipher. "Did you check out the disk when you got it?"

Cipher nodded. "Yeah. That was the day before the water was spiked. Why? What is it?"

Jennifer looked around the room, listened, and then said, "It's a newer version of a basic tracking file with a security infiltration sub-code. The moment you check the disk, it automatically reads your security systems and sends the information out in a compressed file in a single one-second frequency blast. If a clicker, a biodread or even an observation drone is in the area, it'll detect the file and follow it to the source. It would have found the base and known exactly how to get past the security systems. That may be how your security was compromised. Dread abandoned this type of infiltration system some years ago when the encoding was broken by a resistance group in the southeast. I guess he's starting it up again with new coding programs."

"A new code?" Scout asked. "I think we just found out what Blastarr was looking for when he came here. He didn't want anyone finding this disk." He quickly ejected the disk and put it safely in his pocket.

Jon nodded as he glanced at the destroyed disks scattered around. "He didn't want that information falling into our hands and thought he destroyed it with the rest of them."

"Excuse me," Cipher interrupted. "Observation drone?"

"Scout calls it a flying spying eyeball," she explained quickly. "It's a surveillance probe that is very good at being undetected. I heard a low hum when I came into the room, and if that sound file just sounded again -"

That was enough. Jon and Scout immediately drew their guns. Jon quickly grabbed into his radio. "Hawk, Tank, get back. We may be in trouble. Meet us in the steam tunnel. We're leaving. And everyone power on."

Cipher watched in awe as, once again, his friends became the armored Power Team. "I've got to get me one of those suits," he joked to himself. He followed them, not understanding the full import of the use of an observation drone. "Pilot, exactly what can an observation drone do?"

"It's one of the many devices Dread uses to spy on people. It can send a live video and audio feed to Volcania from anywhere on the planet. It has cloaking capabilities and can stay invisible for a short amount of time before it has to recharge. Since none of you reported seeing anything strange like clickers or biodreads before you drank the water, my guess is that there was an observation drone in the area. It intercepted the file and came into your base while it was cloaked. It sent the location back to Dread, and it's probably what he used to taint your water supply."

Cipher took another look around his base as they hurried through the corridors into the steam tunnels. It was getting a little more difficult to see through the steam. "And you think that when the blip sounded when we re-checked the disk, it got the drone's attention again and it could even bring more biomechs to this location?"

"Do you have a self-destruct?" Jon asked as he glanced around a corner to make certain nothing was in their way.

"Yeah," Cipher said hesitantly, then sighed. "I guess we need to blow up the base. Not that it's any good to us now since Dread knows where it is."

"Let's make sure we blow it up with the drone inside," Scout told him. "If it's cloaked, then there's no way to find it or track it, Captain."

"How do you know it's still here?" Cipher asked.

Jennifer stopped, listened again, then stared behind her as Hawk and Tank emerged from a connecting tunnel, their forms like gray ghosts rushing through the steam. She was hearing something no one else had paid attention to. "Easy. They go where they're programmed to and then they'll stay in that area until Dread sends them to a new location. Since we've kept Dread busy for the last week cleaning up after Project Styx, reassigning an observation drone would have been low on his list of priorities. It's probably been hovering around here waiting for instructions."

Hawk had his gun drawn. "There's an observation drone? Great. That's all we need."

Jennifer turned her head slightly. "Do you hear that?" she asked the others.

Everyone stood still. All listened. "Hear what?" Jon asked.

"That humming sound."

Cipher didn't hear anything at first. "Drones hum?" Then he listened more intently. He heard the low hum of machinery. "That's just the echo the generators make when they're working." The team looked at him. "Isn't it?"

Jon finally heard the low noise. "No. That's a drone. Scout, can you get a fix on the sound?"

Scout pulled out a sensor and scanned the corridor. "It's originating in that direction," he pointed behind them. "I think it's following us which means it's probably sending a fairly steamy surveillance picture back to Volcania."

A bright cone of light shone around the room, forcing them to close their eyes against the harsh brightness as the beams bounced off the walls and support columns. "We're being scanned," Jennifer said, her voice sounding both worried and surprised. The light's tendrils touched each person, studied them, classified them. When the beam reached her, it remained longer and tracked her as she tried to turn away.

Cipher noticed how tense the Power Team was getting. "Can these things do any more than spy?"

"They're fast, very mobile and can hurt you," Tank told him.

Hawk kept looking around, trying to find the drone. "They're equipped with limited small-yield laser weapons and are dense enough to put some serious holes in stone walls by ramming them. They've got a stun weapon that can paralyze someone temporarily. You do not want to go up against one in close quarters. You'll get broken bones, concussions and serious bruises."

Jon could hear the hum, dimly, as it hovered somewhere above them. "Keep moving. Keep your guard up. If we have to fight one, I'd rather it be out in the open. Cipher, how do we blow the power source?"

"I can remote trigger them," he answered.

Jon nodded. "Good. Let's –"

Laser shots!

Blasts sprayed from the far corner of the room, right into their center. Everyone scattered, dodging the shots and giving the drone multiple targets. Tank grabbed Cipher, pulled him down behind him as laser bursts rounded on their position. The shots bounced off Tank's thick armor, leaving dents and smoking embers. Hawk ducked, aimed in the general direction and fired but hit nothing as the laser blasts continued from an undefined area. Scout stood behind a column as he tried to track the drone. Jon and Jennifer crouched behind a concrete separator and covered Scout by adding suppression fire. The area was screaming with the echoes of the blaster bursts.

The hum changed pitch. The cloaked drone moved invisibly from position to position and targeted the concrete separator, blasting it from the top and shooting huge chunks out of it. Jennifer ducked down as a huge piece of the concrete disintegrated over her head. Jon grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him where the wall was still somewhat intact.

Then… everything stopped.

No one moved.

Everyone listened for the hum.

Scout checked his scanner… there was no movement, no indication that anything metal or electronic was lurking in the room ready to kill them.

"Scout?" Jon whispered.

"Nothing, Captain. I can't read it as long as it's cloaked."

Cipher craned his neck to look as far as he could around the room. "Think we got it?"

The silence that followed told him the team didn't think they did.

"Now what?" he asked.

Everyone held their position for a few more seconds. Jon glanced over at Jennifer and saw her tilt her head. "Hear it?"

Jennifer listened, then she whirled around, gun pointed at a point near the ceiling as a small grenade exploded the concrete separator, knocking both Jon and Jennifer in different directions.

"They've got grenades now?" Scout yelled as they returned fire again.

Laser blasts peppered the entire area and one laser in particular concentrated on Jennifer. Numerous shots hit her directly, repeatedly, knocking her to the ground and immediately powering down her suit. Tank moved in front of Jennifer as she regained her feet to find cover – a blue laser shot hit her in the shoulder and then she was punched in the stomach, thrown back a good ten feet and onto the train tracks.

Before anyone could move, Scout fired into the steam rising from the pipes, just above Jennifer. That's when Jon saw it – the movement in the steam. The drone could cloak itself, but it couldn't hide its movements through the mist.

"Tank! Bust open a pipe. We need more steam in here," he ordered as he tried to follow the movement through the cloud. He jumped onto the train tracks and placed himself between Jennifer and the last known position of the drone.

The drone focused its explosives on Tank as he smashed his foot through a pipe, the steam escaping into the train tunnel. They searched through the mists until they saw the movement through the steam. "One o'clock!" Hawk yelled as they blasted the area around the movement.

Then… nothing moved.

Jon reached down, grabbed Jennifer's hand and helped her stand. "You okay?"

"Nothing bruised by my dignity," she told him as she clutched her side.

"Just your dignity?" Jon asked her.

"Maybe a couple of ribs?" she suggested. "I can't move my left arm and my left leg feels strange."

Cipher kept one sharp eye on the steam, the other watching how Jon kept hold of Jennifer's good arm. "What do we do now?"

"Don't move," Jennifer suggested. "Maybe the steam is obscuring its sensors." She tilted her head and listened. Her eyes slowly tracked the room. She located the sound of the drone's hum; saw the movement in the steam. "Right corner, near the ceiling," she said.

Bullseye! Five blasters aimed in that general direction and fired. Shots ricocheted off the cloaked drone as it fired back. There was a pop, a vicious spark, and the drone was visible. Its cloaking device failed under the onslaught. Its weapons once again targeted Jennifer. Jon placed himself in front of her as the drone fired repeatedly. The shots overpowered Jon's suit and it shut down as Tank lined the drone up in his sights and fired a low-yield shot from his rocket launcher. He hit the drone head-on. A shower of sparks flew out of it and the orb hit the ground hard.

Cipher moved toward the now defunct drone. "I've never seen anything like it," he muttered. "This is what poisoned our water supply?"

"It's capable of doing far worse," Jennifer explained, holding her side as still as possible. She tried moving her left arm, but it remained slack at her side. She started to lean a bit but Jon reached out and held her upright. "My left leg just went numb," she told him.

"Why did it focus on you?" Cipher asked.

"Self-preservation program probably," Jennifer told him. "It heard we were going to blow up the base with it in here. Maybe it didn't like that idea."

Cipher looked at the team, surprise showing in his eyes. There was concern, but they were acting like everything that had just happened was nothing new under the sun. Was the Power Team so accustomed to fighting in all sorts of situations that it didn't faze them anymore? Had all of them been hurt so often that an injured teammate wasn't considered _injured_? They seemed to take it in stride that Pilot had been beat up and her left side temporarily paralyzed and that she was still standing. He pointed toward Pilot. "It must have been more than that. I mean, that floating tin ball seemed to like you. Those hits should have knocked you unconscious. Will you be all right?"

"I won't be comfortable, but I'll be fine," Jennifer told him. "It takes a few days to wear off," she said nonchalantly.

Jon took quick stock of everyone. "Okay, let's get out of here."

Jon carefully eased an arm around Jennifer, careful of her bruised ribs and taking most of her weight as he helped her limp out of the base. Tank took point and the others brought up the rear.

Cipher took one last look around what had been a pretty good hideout. "Oh, well, easy come, easy go," he whispered to himself. He trailed behind the others, watching them as they walked back through the tunnel toward the entrance. There was a knowing smile on his face once he noticed how careful Jon was with Pilot.

**Power Base - The Next Day**

Listening to the original entry helped a little. Jon couldn't dictate the entry as a mere follow-up to a mission. He needed to explain more of what happened.

But how could he? How could he explain how watching Jennifer get hit with the paralyzing beam, punched in the stomach by a cloaked drone and tossed onto the train tracks nearly made his heart stop beating?

He couldn't. That wasn't something that could go into the database journal. He couldn't let his personal feelings get in the way of the mission, but it was getting harder and harder to push them away. The truth was that he didn't to push them away anymore.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned on the recorder. He needed to get the supplemental entry recorded, but it couldn't be recorded well in a chronological fashion.

"_Database journal 47-8 Mark 17. Captain reporting._

_We were too late to warn Cipher. When we arrived at his base, we discovered that his water supply had been tainted with a drug that caused temporary madness, hallucinations and violence. The water was drugged by an observation drone that was led there by a sub-electronic security system sound file recorded on a data disk given to Cipher by an informant. Biomechs attacked while we were at the base. We don't know if they attacked us on Dread's orders, followed the sound file the same way the observation drone did or if they were waiting to apprehend survivors from Cipher's group. After the fight at the base, we took Cipher and his group to the Passages for medical care and returned home. Some hours later, we learned that Tank had drank some of the water." _

He stopped.

Something was bothering him, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Something that happened at Cipher's base…

He clicked on the record button again.

"_Dread's plan was to launch a rocket filled with the drug into a major water supply. Scout, Pilot and I flew to the location to stop the rocket while Hawk remained on the base to find Tank who was suffering from the effects of the drug."_

All right, both groups were successful. He was grateful for that.

"_We were able to stop the countdown and self-destruct the missile. We also had another run-in with Blastarr. Destroying him is proving more and more difficult. He has survived massive explosions, stronghold destructions and blaster fire at point blank range. I'm not certain what it will take to destroy the biodread."_

Not destroying Blastarr was going to hurt them, he just knew it.

"_There's been no report of any damage done to the ground or water tables beneath the missile explosion, and preliminary tests indicate that the chemical was destroyed completely with the missile. Upon our return, we learned that Tank wasn't suffering from the full-effects of the drug any longer even though it was still present in his system. We sedated him so he could sleep off the remains of the drug."_

And it had to be Tank that drank the water, didn't it? The one person who could rip sheet metal in two… okay, that wasn't much of an exaggeration, but that didn't take away from the fact he was almost impossible to stop.

Jon had to make the difficult decision of having someone attempt to stop Tank before he hurt someone or himself. The problem was that this wasn't their Tank. This was a man who had been deliberately given a drug without his knowledge and had no defense against it. This Tank could only see biodreads surrounding him and wanted to destroy anything that moved. It wouldn't be easy for anyone to get through to him.

Tank was a trained soldier; Jon was his commanding officer, but would that have been enough to reach him? Jon didn't believe so. It would take more than military protocol to break through the hold the drug had on him. Scout? No, as close as he and Tank were as friends, it'd take something more than mere friendship. Jennifer? If Tank ever hurt her, he'd never forgive himself even though she could undoubtedly best him in hand-to-hand combat; but if she hurt him, she would never forgive herself. Jon wouldn't risk that, plus he needed a pilot for the jump ship when they went after the missile. At least, that was the reason he kept telling himself.

That left Hawk. He and Tank were friends, they were colleagues, they were military. Given their type of friendship, Hawk would have had the best chance of reaching him in that drug-induced state.

It hadn't been an easy decision to make, but it had to be done. Luckily, Hawk could joke about it afterwards.

"_How did you do manage to get through to him?" Jon asked Hawk._

"_I almost let him kill me," Hawk said, half jokingly._

Making light of a bad situation was a necessity at times. They could be looking down the gun of a warlord and still make a bad joke to relieve the tension. Yet, the idea that one of them could kill another even in a hallucinatory rage wasn't one that was easily joked about.

Would the joke have been the same if it had been anyone else who drank the water?

What would he have done if Jennifer had drank the water? She'd proven herself more than able to win a fight against soldiers Tank's size. Her size hid amazing strength and agility. She could take down any of the rest of the team in a fight – how would Jon have stopped her if she'd had the drug in her system?

He switched on the recorder again. _"We were lucky this time, and we did stop Project Styx."_ He switched off the recorder and hit Save. So much for the supplemental entry.

He heard a noise, turned around and saw Jennifer slowly making her way toward the stairs that led into the control room. He noted that she still had her arm in a sling and her left leg was dragging a bit, but she was walking. Obviously, the stun blast had not worn off. "Should you be walking around yet?" he asked as he quickly climbed the steps and helped her down into the control room.

"Probably not, but it wears off faster if I can force my leg to move. It's better now than it was. At least the feeling is coming back," she smiled.

She had a very shy, sincere smile, Jon noticed. He'd seen it before, but it suddenly came to him how real her smile was. As time passed, he was noticing more and more about her. Sometimes, like at that moment, dressed in a simple t-shirt and khakis, her hair tucked behind her ears, he could picture her as she might have lived had the war never happened, had her childhood not been robbed from her. No uniforms, no military training perhaps, just _Jennifer_. Would she have been very different? Would he? Would he feel the same way about her if they had met under different circumstance? Questions like that really didn't matter since they met exactly as they did. He knew the woman now, and the feelings he felt for her were because of who she was.

He held the seat steady as she sat down. "How's your arm?" he asked as he took hold of her hand.

"Better," she answered, slowly wiggling her fingers and grasping his hand lightly. There wasn't much strength in her hand yet. She looked at the console and noticed the time stamp on the monitor's log. "Having trouble with the data log?"

Jon nodded his head. "A little," he told her. "The entries are getting repetitive."

"And it never seems to end, does it?" Jennifer asked.

"No, it doesn't," Jon agreed. "In fact, that was exactly what I was just thinking. It never ends. It's always the same…"

"That's the way Dread's empire works," she told him as she carefully leaned back in the seat. "His entire philosophy is based on a foundation of routines and procedures. Everything is logically regimented so everyone does the same thing –"

"Over and over again," both said in unison.

Jon sat back as well and ran his hand through his hair. "Makes sense. If you don't want people to think independently, then don't give them anything independent to think about." He sighed. "It seems he's doing the same thing with his battle strategies. There's not much originality to them."

"Not this time though," she disagreed. Jon noticed how she winced when she moved slightly to take some of the pressure off her ribs. "He chose a resistance base to test his latest project on. That's something new."

"I wonder why. Why didn't he destroy them when he located the base? There are a lot of settlements near water – why not try his experiment there?" Jon had a feeling that Jennifer had a theory. "Jennifer?"

She took a shallow breath and held on to her ribs. They were still painful when she moved. She took her arm out of the sling and slowly moved her fingers. The numbness was wearing off, so her hand must have felt as if it a thousand pins and needles were sticking into it. Still, she didn't complain. She never did. Jon was tempted to tell her to go lie down and rest, but she wouldn't. She'd find something to do, so there was no reason she couldn't do the same thing sitting in the control room with him. "Resistance groups are well known for looking after our own. If Dread could find a way to force us to turn on each other –"

"We'd solve his problem for him. We'd kill each other ourselves," he finished for her. "Hawk said Tank came pretty close. What I can't figure out is why Dread tested the drug the way he did. He had to have known that it worked before he put it in the missile. There had to be a lot of it, it would have taken time to manufacture, so the tests would have been performed months ago, wouldn't they? He had to have already known what the drug would do. It doesn't make sense that he would test a drug the day before he launched a missile to distribute it."

Jennifer sat quietly for a while. Then, "I keep wondering if everything that happened at Cipher's base was some sort of diversion."

That thought hadn't crossed Jon's mind. "What do you mean?"

"We've beaten Dread time and again. We've stopped, disabled or interrupted most of his projects, especially the ones having to do with the Project New Order. Why hasn't he changed his plans? Why does he keep using the exact same plan for Project New Order that we found months ago? He knows we have it, he knows we're using it to fight against him, but he doesn't change his tactics."

No, Dread didn't change his tactics. Why hadn't Jon noticed that? Then again – maybe he had and just didn't realize it. "Taggert was always predictable," he muttered. "He was a creature of habit. He had a very methodical and ordered mind which is why he was able to design a computer like Overmind. I didn't stop to think that Dread wouldn't change methods any more than Taggert would." Jon thought for a moment, then wondered out loud, "Maybe that's why he hasn't altered tactics. He's absolutely certain Project New Order will work."

"Another question I have is why Overmind hasn't stopped it unless he has other plans that he hasn't told Dread about," Jennifer suggested with a frown. "Dread may think that Project New Order is the plan itself but Overmind might see New Order as just part of a larger one."

Jon considered that. It sounded feasible, and what he knew about Overmind, entirely logical. "That makes sense."

He put away the recorder and saw how Jennifer was pulling at her fingers. Then he noticed the look on Jennifer's face. Something else was bothering her. He reached out and gently took her left hand again. "Is it hurting?" he asked. The fingers were cold, but not like they were right after the drone shot her with the paralyzing beam.

"A little, but it's better," she smiled. "I can actually feel it tingling."

Her voice sounded guarded, as if something was bothering her. "What is it?" he asked.

She took a shaky breath. "Cipher said something about the drone liking me since it seemed to focus on me."

Jon had thought the same thing even though he didn't voice his opinion at the time. He was rather impressed that Jennifer was still conscious and walking after taking the beating from the drone. The fact that it singled her out could have been a coincidence, but he didn't believe that. "Maybe it's programmed to shoot down people in a certain sequence? Maybe by height or gender –"

"No," Jennifer shook her head. "Drones have specific types of programming and attack styles. Pictures of their targets are loaded into its database. Drones have a very sophisticated facial recognition program, and once someone's identity is determined, it's supposed to kill them. The drone scanned us and then seemed to target me. I've been wondering if my picture is in the database."

Jon wouldn't put it past Dread to sink to that level. As a Dread Youth, there would have been surveillance footage of her from the time she first taken to Volcania up until the time she escaped. If Dread wanted to know where she was, the drones would be one way of finding her. "But that one particular drone? How would Dread know we'd go to Cipher's in the first place?" The idea that there was an informant somewhere telling Dread what they were doing -

Jennifer shook her head and tried to force her mostly-numb fingers to hold on to his. She couldn't get her fingers to curve easily. "Not just one drone. If Dread wanted to search for a particular person, he'd have their picture in every database of every drone he's got. They're very efficient."

That drone had scanned them and targeted Jennifer. If it had Jennifer's picture in its databanks, then they all did. That was another concern for them.

"Dread may have uploaded all our pictures to the drones, but there's a pre-programmed hierarchy the drones have to follow. Traitors to the Machine would be listed as a higher priority than anyone, including a resistance group. Even you," she explained with a slight smile. "Usually, traitors are targeted for capture first. They're only killed if necessary."

"And that's why the drone targeted you after it scanned us," Jon surmised. Then, "But why are we not finding more drones?"

"It's just a guess, but I think Dread had them working on a particular mission. You know the reports we've heard about how many overunits have been executed recently because they failed to capture us?"

Jon closed his eyes at that thought. The reports over the last couple of months had hinted at a fast personnel turnover in the overunit ranks, but it was only two weeks ago they learned of the executions. Jon may not have liked what the Dread Youth stood for, but he didn't want to be the reason for any of their executions. "You think that Dread used the drones to execute them?"

Jennifer brought up one report from another resistance group. "Find them, execute them, it's possible. Look," she pointed to the description of the overunit body they had found. "They found small laser shots in the chest and back and evidence of an explosive consistent with a grenade."

Dread was using his own machines to execute members of his own army. "How many of them are there?"

Jennifer shrugged. "There might be more drones out there than we can imagine since they have a cloaking capability or there may not be a lot of them left since we've destroyed so many of Dread's facilities and there would have been drones inside to spy on the personnel. But these executions have been going on for months. If there were a lot of drones, I don't think it would have taken as long to kill the overunits."

"So maybe there aren't as many as we think?" Jon suggested hopefully.

"Maybe. Dread may not even know how many drones there are if Overmind is keeping the information from him." Jennifer almost laughed. "Given how much Overmind hates organics, I can almost imagine him not trusting Dread and using the drones to spy on him since he used to be an organic."

A duplicitous computer with an independent agenda. That was all they needed. That also meant that Jennifer could be the target of any drone they hadn't seen. Jon gave her fingers a last squeeze and then reluctantly let go of her hand as pointed toward another file on the monitor. "Cipher has sent a copy of his report to every resistance group. Maybe we can keep what happened to him from being repeated."

"I hope so," Jennifer told him as she eased her arm back in the sling, moving slowly so she didn't aggravate her ribs. "The idea that enemy troops could find a base and sneak in that easily is not a comforting thought."

No, it wasn't a comforting thought. Jon suddenly knew what was bothering him about the mission. Dread's troops got into Cipher's base with relative ease. If drones, biodreads or biomechs could get into the Power Base as easily as that…

Their security was tougher to get through than Cipher's base was. Their protocols had been changed and upgraded after Andy Jackson broke in, but could a single frequency blast deliver the information needed for a drone, a clicker or a biodread to infiltrate the base? He didn't believe so. Still… "Do you think our systems are safe?" he asked her.

"We've got every security measure we can think of running all the time," she explained, her look one of hopefulness but also aware of the dangers. Then hesitantly, she answered, "I hope so."

The End


	18. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 1

_**Author's notes: **__Judgment has always been the one episode that I've remembered even when I had forgotten others over the years. To me, it was a pivotal episode of the show because of the events, what happened and what was said. After watching it again, I could hear the plot bunnies hopping and the muses musing, but the plot to do this particular episode justice eluded me. In truth, finding the plot for this tag proved to be a befuddling venture. I had pages of the story written, dialogue spoken, action mapped out – and none of it flowed or connected. That's when I realized this tag couldn't work if the action picked up at the end of the episode. Too much happened, too much would have to be explained and flashed-back on and that meant the story wouldn't flow. This tag had to start before the episode and carry on throughout the action, detailing events and dialogue that would be used for the 'official' tag at the end of the story. I hope I did __justice to this episode. Big thanks to Kazthom for reading this over and suggesting a lot of great ideas. __J_

**Episode 16 – Judgment**

_Jon and Jennifer crash land in the desert. Jon is wounded and forced to stay behind while Jennifer seeks help at a remote water station. Refugees recognize her as the Dread Youth who destroyed their home, Sand Town, and they place her on trial while danger approaches from another direction._

**Oasis: Before Dawn**

Sitting at his makeshift desk, Randall opened a sketchbook filled with drawing after drawing of moments from his life. Pictures he had drawn of his parents, hoeing rows in the hard dirt, planting seeds, small crops growing in a hidden field, helping with the harvest, biomechs, Dread Youth soldiers, transports, his home settlement burning… he moved past those pictures and found a blank sheet of paper mid-way through the sketch book. He held the pencil loosely in his fingers as he stared at the page, looking for inspiration. He'd had the dream again the night before – his home burning, he and his uncle hiding in the shadows, the death and destruction of Sand Town. _Her._ Then without another thought, he began to draw the face that he would never forget. How could he? It haunted his dreams and floated through his nightmares. In truth, he didn't want to forget her. She was the one who had destroyed his home, murdered his family and changed his life for all time. If he forgot _her_, then he was afraid he'd forget everything that had come before.

He loosened his grip on the pencil as he drew her delicate jaw line. The hair… it was tucked up under her soldier's cap. The collar was buttoned tightly at her throat. All this was incidental. It was her eyes that he would never forget but always eluded him. She looked like so many other Dread Youth soldiers – gray eyes, blonde hair, crisp uniform, military posture – yet there was something about her eyes that he remembered but could never understand. Yes, she smiled, almost, with the overunit who had been with her at Sand Town. Yes, she gave the order to cleanse the town, and it seemed as if there was no thought involved. She shouted out the order to cleanse the town without thinking. However, there was something different about her eyes. He remembered her giving the order, but the look in her eyes…

He tried time and again to draw her eyes but there was something not quite cold about them. Oh, what was the point? One Dread Youth soldier looked like the other. That's the way Dread grew them – identical, but this one, as angry and vengeful as he was, Randall couldn't understand why he couldn't draw this youth leader's eyes to look cold and dead. The overunit had dead eyes. Uncaring eyes. Unflinching eyes. The overunit's eyes had been easy to draw. That youth leader though…

Randall drew the nose and the ears. He drew the mouth and then concentrated on the eyes again. He couldn't understand. The eyes he kept drawing looked sad, shocked and emotional. He hated the woman, so why couldn't he sketch her correctly? Why couldn't he draw her as the killer he knew her to be? Why did his drawings always depict her as someone who was shaken, stunned and on the verge of tears?

"Randall?" his uncle's voice called him from the main room. "Breakfast."

"Coming, Uncle Gaelen," he called back.

He focused on the eyes again. He had to try again to draw them correctly. He made a small stroke at the brow, another at the iris…

"Ah, it's useless," he muttered.

A shadow appeared in his room. He turned and saw his uncle standing in the doorway to his bedroom. "Randall, maybe you shouldn't keep drawing those soldiers. It doesn't help. It won't bring the others back."

"I know," Randall muttered lowly as he studied the drawing. "I don't want to forget her. Uncle Gaelen, you saw her that night. That's her, right? Am I drawing her right? Did she look like that?"

Gaelen took the drawing and studied the face that Randall effectively and habitually drew. How many times had he given a drawing to his uncle for his opinion? Glancing at the stack of sketchbooks beside his desk, he realized there were a lot. Those books were full of drawings he had made of that one woman. He drew her more than any other from that night. He watched Gaelen look over the drawing, saw the nod of his uncle's head as he stared at each curve, at each line. "Yes, it seems very much like I remember her, son, but you have to consider that you and I only saw her for a brief moment that night years ago. Our memories may have faded over the years. Besides, many of the Dread Youth are similar – no one knows how Dread created an army like that. They don't look enough alike to be clones, but to look that similar? It's a mystery."

"I don't understand why I can't get her eyes right," Randall complained.

"It's possible that two faces have merged in our memories. It's possible that the eyes you're drawing belong to someone else other than the youth leader's. Consider how sad it would be for this girl if her eyes truly reflected the kind of hurt and sadness that you've sketched in her portraits over the years."

"Sad?" Randall had no idea what his uncle meant. "Why?"

"To witness what happened that night and have it hurt that much, to not have done anything to stop it… still, no drawing can ever truly depict the real person. Not even your artistic skills would find it simple to capture the essence of the soul with just paper and pencil."

Randall had heard that before. His uncle didn't mind him drawing when he wasn't working, but he was also a practical critic. Gaelen always encouraged his drawing because he believed the world needed art once the wars were over, but he told Randall what he liked about the art and what he didn't. He was honest when he critiqued his drawings. He once said that a truthful opinion was better than anything else so as not to give false encouragement. When Gaelen praised his work, Randall knew that it was the truth and that his uncle liked his efforts. "I can't draw her eyes other than the way I keep drawing them. I can see them in my mind, but I can't put them on the paper."

Gaelen studied the drawing again and then handed it back to Randall. "Perhaps you are drawing her correctly just as you saw her that night, but you don't want to remember her that way. You've given her very human eyes, not those lifeless robot eyes most of those soldiers have. It's not impossible for her to have not lost all her humanity. Perhaps there was something still human in her and you saw it? Perhaps that's why your drawings always depict her having gentle eyes?"

Randall folded up the paper and placed it in his handmade desk. "No, she was Dread Youth. She's a killer. That's all they are. They've all got guilty blood on their hands."

Gaelen placed a hand on Randall's shoulder. "If only life were as clear cut as that. Unfortunately, there is more to any story than what we think we know. However, that is a discussion for another time. Breakfast is ready. Then you have to help Clegg gather wood. With winter almost here, we'll need to store up as much wood as we possibly can. Plus, a storm is coming. It should get here sometime tomorrow. Best to get as much done in the good weather as you can."

**Volcania**

Dread sat on his throne, fuming at the recent reports. Top secret files had once again been accessed. Secretly tracing exactly which files had been accessed, the source code and the location of the terminal used were proving tedious and unsuccessful. He sent loyal soldiers to track down the leak, but very little information had been reported back.

"_Overunit Grieg reporting, my lord_," the voice sounded over the speakers.

Finally. Dread leaned forward toward the communications console. "What have you learned, Overunit?"

"_The information was placed into the web via an access port in an abandoned computer lab near Memphis. Our investigation has confirmed that the data was downloaded to a server through a biomech soldier's processors some weeks ago. The biomech in question was listed as destroyed after a battle with resistance forces at Nashville within days after the file was downloaded so we cannot confirm the report. The file was retrieved at an untraceable location by an individual calling himself Circuit, and according to the records on the computers, the information was saved on a portable data disk. No further information has been found at this location."_

The overunit's voice sounded somewhat apologetic but steady. There was something else he wasn't telling Dread.

"That is all?" Dread asked.

"_No, my lord. I have no tangible information. I have only supposition and conjecture."_

Ah, the plight of the Dread Youth. They were taught to be logical and rational, not to guess. "What is the nature of your conjectures?" Dread asked him.

"_What little information we have recorded on this individual named Circuit indicates that he has personal ties to people in the northwestern region of the country. Possibly along the border of Canada. We are unable to trace the location he accessed the information from, but if he has friends or family in the Northwest, it is possible he is working from that area or has retreated to that area."_

Ah. The supposition that he would take the data tape there without proof – that was an unaccustomed type of thought process for any Dread Youth.

"The information will be recorded. You have done well, Overunit Grieg," Dread falsely praised him. "Report back to base."

"_Understood. Overunit Grieg out."_

Dread thought for a moment. Time and again, information had been gathered from top secret servers within Volcania, transferred to servers or computers all over the continent and ultimately ended up in the Resistance's hands. Worse than that, too many times, it was Power who had the data. Dread couldn't find the leak. He had no idea how or why it was happening.

On a whim, Dread brought up information on this "Circuit." In mere moments, he had birth date, real name, schooling before the wars – he was from Arizona and went to college in California. He was now believed to be an information courier for some of the web-handlers in places like Tech City and web-capable settlements.

Dread replayed part of Grieg's report. _"What little information we have recorded on this individual named Circuit indicates that he has personal ties to people in the northwestern region of the country."_

Northwest? Arizona and California weren't in the northwest…

Wait - Dread realized that the leaks could be coming from places higher up than he would have ever suspected. It had been some time since anyone in his army had reason to go to the _southwest_… In fact, when was the last time any report of resistance activity had been reported there? Things had been rather uneventful in that area.

Perhaps it was time for a flyby.

Dread contacted his biodread. "Soaron?"

"_Yes, my lord?"_ his mechanical voice called back.

"Are you aware of the information that has been stolen?"

"_It concerns Project New Order, my lord,"_ was the answer.

"Go toward the southwest. Find any resistance forces there. It is possible that someone from the Power Team may be in that region. Locate that data tape, destroy anyone who opposes you and return that information to me."

"_Understood, my lord. With so few settlements in the area, it should not take long to search."_

Dread then turned back toward the computer and brought up any and all information he could find on Overunit Grieg, his academic accomplishments, his military background, his off-duty activities… strange, he went to Tech City every few weeks…

**Power Base**

"You're getting sneakier, Hawk. Suggesting that they go ahead on this mission while we fix the jump ship and take care of the other missions on schedule today," Scout observed happily as he adjusted the controls on the sky bike. "You know Jennifer knew exactly what was wrong with the jump ship before they left."

Hawk grinned and nodded his head. "Of course, she did. She knows this vehicle inside and out. We just didn't have enough time to repair it before they had to leave. It only took me a couple of hours to find out which connections had to be readjusted and realigned. Jennifer would have known exactly which wire and which lead was loose by listening to the engines." Hawk patted the side of the jump ship. "Poor girl's been taking a beating at Soaron's hands too much lately."

"I still don't like it," Tank observed as he refueled the jump ship. "We don't know who this contact is or how they got this information about New Order. It's not like the captain to trust someone he's never met and take this kind of risk."

Scout tossed a screwdriver back into the toolbox. "Things are getting worse for the Resistance lately. The captain has to take more chances than before. But Tank's right, Hawk. The captain doesn't know whoever it was that contacted him."

Hawk wasn't happy about that fact either. "The message came on the same encrypted transmission frequency that sent us information before."

That got Scout's attention. "What kind of information?"

"That there was a file in the web that we could access at Tech City. That people were receiving flyers that there was a safe place out there somewhere only people were being mass-digitized. That Dread was preparing to destroy towns so he could get rid of all the books – whoever's sending us this information has been right on the money every time. Jon's willing to take the risk. It may be that there's only a data disk at the site and no one to give it to him if whoever our informant is wants to remain anonymous."

Tank helped Scout put the sky bike back on board the ship. "They had to go somewhere out west to get that information. No matter where the rendezvous point is, the resistance groups in that area are few and far between."

"So are Dread's forces," Hawk added. "He doesn't have any permanent facilities and doesn't put biomechs out there to gather dust."

"If they get in trouble –" Scout began to say.

Hawk raised up his hand to forestall any objections. "Dread's been quiet for the last couple of weeks. His forces aren't active in that area. The trip should be relatively easy so they wouldn't need the jump ship; no expected problems, so maybe they don't have to be in a hurry…"

"Aha!" Scout laughed out loud. "And I'll bet you suggested they take their time and go out on one sky bike and leave the other three for us. One sky bike, much cozier. Very Machiavellian of you."

"Machiavelli had very little to do with it," Hawk cautioned him. "It's more like circumstance stepped in. Look, there was something wrong with the ship and it needed repairing. Jon did have to be the one to go out and get the information since they insisted that Jon be the one to go. The three of us have to keep that meeting with Cipher later today, and we'll be using the sky bikes to get there because we can't maneuver the ship through the mountain gorge Cipher's set up camp in. It makes sense that Jon and Jennifer would take one sky bike. And you're right," Hawk grinned in a very knowing way, "it's cozier."

"Sly one," Tank whispered as he helped Scout lift the sky bike back into the jump ship. "And you think this will help their relationship?"

Hawk shook his head. "You never know, but let's just say it might get one of them thinking. Sky bikes mean close proximity between pilot and passenger. And just to let the two of you know, it was Jon's idea to go on one bike. Not mine."

Both Tank and Scout stopped moving and stared at Hawk.

Hawk shrugged. "Hey, I'm just saying…"

**Above The Desert**

Jonathan Power loved flying on a sky bike.

There was a sense of personal freedom he felt when flying a bike; much more so than when he flew the XT jet or the few times he flew the jump ship. Maybe if he had been born in a different time, he could have been a fighter pilot. Air Force or Navy pilot perhaps? He never told anyone, but he always wished he could redesign his own suit so he could fly like Hawk, but suits were designed to adapt to the physical and genetic capabilities of the wearer. Just because Jon loved to fly didn't mean that his primary job _was_ to fly. He took what enjoyment he could out of flying sky bikes instead. It was a fair trade-off.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

True, Jon loved flying on a sky bike, but the flight he was on at the moment was special. He was content to be the co-pilot on this particular mission. Watching Jennifer's natural ability to pilot any aircraft in action never ceased to amaze him. Her movements were effortless, almost undetectable, as if she were born to do it. What amused him most was how much she preferred to fly the jump ship rather than the XT or one of the bikes. Jon was certain it was because the jump ship was _hers_ in a way that nothing else was. It wasn't just her responsibility or a home-away-from-home or a transport. It was _her_ ship. She was on a first-name basis with every wire, circuit and connection on board. Maybe there really was a connection between them. Maybe it wasn't their imagination that the ship flew twice as well for her than it did for anyone else. Maybe that ship felt like Jennifer was her pilot and everyone else on the team just got to fly her on occasion.

Jon chuckled. Sure, Jennifer might talk to the jump ship and make jokes about it being alive just to amuse Hawk, but there he was, giving sentience to it. What would Hawk say about that?

Hearing what Hawk would have to say about the fact that they had to change rendezvous points further to the southwest for the mission during mid-flight wasn't something Jon was looking forward to. They had tried raising the base on the radio, but there was interference from the storm front currently growing between them and the base. Changing destinations and not being able to report it wasn't going to make his friend very happy. It was a good idea to always know where team members were at any given time. Then again, given Hawk's expression when Jon suggested he and Jennifer take one sky bike instead of two, maybe their going to another rendezvous site and taking a longer time to get home wouldn't be a big surprise to him.

When they arrived at the rendezvous point, no one was there. It was merely a dried out river bed with some ruins of once-fine homes along what used to be the shoreline. It was too exposed a position, so Jon had them both keep their suits powered on. While they waited for the contact to arrive, he and Jennifer talked. Not about anything important at first, but eventually, their conversations became more personal, more to the point.

"So Cragen hit a grand slam, winning the World Series in the fourth game with a score of 22 to 15. It was the first time the Colorado Classics ever won the World Series. After that, they spent the next fifteen years either winning the pennant or going to the Series. Cragen ended that season hitting 615, and that's nothing to –"

"Wait a minute," Jennifer said with a broad grin, "you mean to tell me that you know the batting average of a baseball player that lived 80 years ago?"

"Absolutely. I love baseball. Great game. When I was a kid, I wanted to be a baseball player when I grew up," he explained happily. "I could hit, but I really loved to pitch. I played catcher and first base a few times when I was in school. Pitching though, I was really good at that."

"You sound like you had fun."

"Yeah. We did. Mitch could hit homeruns every time he was at bat, and there wasn't a single hit Katie couldn't catch. No matter what position she played, she made more outs than any of the rest of us. Back when we were kids, we'd go on picnics and Dad and Matt were the team captains and would choose up sides. Mom loved to play first base. Joanna like being the shortstop. We'd get some of the other kids in the neighborhood involved. Some of the parents would play too. It was fun."

Jennifer got a strange look on her face. "How long has it been since you played baseball?"

Jon thought for a moment. "I think the last time we played… well, it was the school break before Mitch and Katie were killed. I guess I was almost 15. After that, everything changed."

Fifteen. That was when he lost his father, when Hawk lost his family, when the entire world became infested with Dread's robots. "What about you? What kinds of games did you play when you were a kid?"

"We didn't play games in the Dread Youth," she told him. "We had physical competitions, but nothing that you could call really competing. If you didn't pass, you were removed and not heard from again. I made sure I was good at those." Her voice sounded rather sad.

"Did you ever get to do anything just for the fun of it?" he wanted to know.

"Flight training was fun," she said, but Jon smiled and shook his head. "Okay, those were lessons. I know. I was still top of my class. That's one of the reasons I was assigned to aerial defense with a recon unit. I was told I was being given that assignment before I got…" She got a sad look on her face. "But no, we didn't have games. I guess when you were playing baseball that last time, I was in some kind of science class or military training exercise or flight school."

She was talking somewhat freely about her childhood. Jon knew it was one of those rare times she wanted to talk, so he'd be more than happy to listen, but military training exercises? She never spoke of those before. She and Hawk would talk for hours about how they learned to be pilots, the training regimen, the way the skills were developed, but she had been somewhat scarce on explaining other types of schooling. "What did you do on the military training exercises?"

"We would be taken to a cordoned off area near Volcania, dropped off on our own and given certain instructions that had to be carried out. This field… it would take days to cross so dozens of us would be released in diverse locations with various assignments and we'd never see another soldier out there. There were all types of natural surroundings – trees, boulders, some dried up streams, things like that. We would have to set up a working camp, find food and water, some of it was basic survival training. We had to learn how to forage for edible food in case we were ever lost in the wastelands, but the food in the area had been planted there. Other times, we'd have war games between two or more soldiers. Failure was not an option. It wasn't representative of what was really out here. Nothing there was like it was out here."

She stopped there. Jon didn't push the subject. "But no fun games, huh?"

Jennifer chuckled. "No, no fun games. Scout was the one who taught me my first game."

Scout? That meant it would have been seemingly ordinary to them, but something quite extraordinary to her. Scout taught her a lot of what they took for granted when she first joined them. "What was it?"

"It was a game just to pass the time. You take a deck of cards and throw them one by one into a hat. The one who tosses the most cards in the hat wins. I'd never thought about doing something like that when there's nothing to do," she smiled at the memory. "But to be honest, chess is more fun."

She was getting even better at chess than before. Her tactical mind could see ten moves before she made even one. She had a way of adapting that skill into her life, not just her chess game. The way she had outmaneuvered him when she talked him into sneaking into Med Lab One… despite the outcome, it was more proof that she could tactically outmaneuver just about anyone.

They talked for a long time while they waited, but no contact arrived. Jon was about to declare the mission a bust when they heard a mechanical beeping coming from a pile of rocks. What they found was a recording device on a timer with a single message and a data disk recorded via an encrypted frequency. The timer had finally gone off and started beeping to get their attention. The message itself was simple: "This is the latest information on Project New Order. It's been encrypted, and only your computer can decrypt it." The voice was synthesized to hide the identity of the speaker.

"Someone knows that Mentor can decrypt it?" Jon asked her, worried about security.

"It's that added safety protocol the programmers in Tech City created, remember?" Jennifer explained.

Right. He remembered that briefing all too well. "I think I got a headache when the technical details started getting explained."

Jennifer laughed. "It's a way to keep Dread from trying to mimic any Resistance transmission. Dread can't breach any of our frequencies with his own equipment because ours are not quite as technologically advanced."

"That's like the programs on the jump ship," Jon realized. "You have buffer programs that let the newer ones and the older ones talk to each other."

"In a way," she agreed. "If Dread uses Resistance equipment, he doesn't have the codes to access the correct systems to encrypt or decrypt the message. If he intercepts messages from one of the groups, he can't decrypt it with his own equipment. It's basically another level of an identification program so the sender and the receiver know which ones are legitimate and which ones aren't."

Ingenious. "When did the programmer come up with the idea to create the encryption?" Jon wondered.

"Not too long after Andy Jackson got into our base. Some of our hackers at the Passages were worried that Dread would try to hack into Resistance computer systems the same way Jackson got past ours, so they worked with some programmers at Tech City to create the encryption codes. It took them a while to work out the problems because every group out here uses different coding systems. You know when the data disk that Cipher found sent out security information in a compressed file through a single one-second blast that a nearby observation drone picked up? That could have been stopped if Cipher had some type of detection program on the computer that read encryptions or the lack of encryptions. It would have prevented the file from being read or sent without authentication. Also, since Dread's using a new coding method with his observation drones and frequencies now, the Resistance is countering it by encoding our messages in a way that can't be duplicated."

Jon shook his head and smiled. "Incredible. How well is it working?"

"It's worked pretty well so far," she told him. "Someone would have to have intensive knowledge of a lot of systems to get around it, and Dread doesn't have that."

Not that he couldn't get it, Jon thought to himself. One turncoat, one person willing to take a bribe, one person threatened and Dread would be able to get the information he needed to hear and plant messages. Still, it was another impediment to stop Dread in his tracks, and they would use it as long as they could. He took the data disk and put it in his pocket. Things were looking up for the Resistance if Dread could be kept in the dark about their activities. That was something to ponder later. They climbed back on board the sky bike and flew off.

Back to the real world.

For a while, it was just the two of them on a leisurely flight with no problems and lots of conversation. It'd been a long time since they'd just talked about nothing in particular. In truth, it had been fun, and to be honest, it had been a long time since Jon had fun. He needed to find a way to schedule more down time for all of them. They needed to have fun, to let loose, to put the war behind them for even a few hours. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that there was a life outside of being a soldier.

Take flying a sky bike. On any other day, it was something very ordinary for them, but this time, he was realizing how different this flight was. They'd flown on the same sky bike before, but with his feelings for her so markedly changed, the experience of their being together took on an entirely new life and meaning.

Unfortunately, all good things had to come to an end. They had to try to reach the base. The others needed to know that they had the disk and everything was fine, but that would mean the fun would have to come to a screeching halt.

Ah, well, no use putting it off any longer.

He tapped Jennifer on the shoulder. "Are we able to contact the base from here?"

Jennifer checked the radio. "That electrical storm is still causing some interference, and it's heading this way. There are more transmitters where we are now, so it could help boost the signal… still, I doubt if we'll get a clear signal through to them."

"Maybe it'll be good enough to report in?"

"Hawk is not going to be happy that we haven't called in sooner," she pointed out.

No, he wouldn't be happy, but given the look on Hawk's face when they left after Jon suggested they only take the one bike, maybe he wouldn't be too upset. Besides, it wasn't as if they hadn't tried. They couldn't get past the interference earlier, that's all.

Jennifer tried to raise the base again and zeroed in on the correct frequency. "It might be choppy, but I think I've got them."

"Hawk?" Jon said loudly over the roar of the sky bike's engine.

Hawk's voice broke through the static. _"Jon. About time. How'd it go?"_

**Not Far Away**

Soaron flew rapidly over the locations of suspected resistance groups when he picked up a transmission to the south of him. An analysis indicated it was a coded message of a familiar encryption… it bore the mark of Power's encryption algorithm. He couldn't decrypt the message, but he could pinpoint the source of transmission.

"My lord," Soaron quickly called back to his master.

"_Yes, Soaron?"_

"Sensors have picked up a transmission coming from one of Power's team."

There was a pause. _"It might be Power himself who has the data tape that was stolen from me. Soaron, intercept and contain if possible. Destroy if necessary."_

"At once, my lord!" Soaron sped away toward the coordinates the transmission originated.

**Skybike**

Jon spoke loudly. "We got the disk. The rendezvous point was changed and no one was there. Just the disk. I'm still wondering about how secure this information is. Are you picking up anything on communications?"

There was a pause. Then, _"Negative. Everything's quiet. If Dread heard anything, we don't know about it. Your transmission's not clear."_

"There's an electrical storm stretching from Utah to New Mexico that's causing the interference," Jon explained.

"It's heading our way," Jennifer added. "We might have to land if we can't get around it and wait for it to pass."

"_Your way?"_ Hawk's voice sounded confused. _"That means the storm would be moving westward, right? Storms moving in that direction are pretty rare. They usually go from west to east."_

Jon chuckled. "Hawk always did love studying the weather," he said.

"He's a pilot," Jennifer reminded him. "Got to know what the weather's doing if you're going to fly through it."

"_Did you two get away clean?"_

Jennifer leaned toward the transmitter. "Let's hope so. How's the jump ship?"

They could hear the laughter over the speaker. _"Everything's fixed. Look, I know when you two left I was hoping it was just a bad case of bugs and the jump ship wanted some downtime –"_

"It was a loose connection on one of the fuel leads, wasn't it?"

Again, laughter in the background.

"_Yes, you were absolutely right. But on that last tune up when we checked out every circuit and gear and connection, that bolt was on tight. I can't figure out how it worked its way loose."_

"I believe it," Jennifer said as adjusted the sky bike's speed to counter the turbulence. She said to Jon and not over the radio, "We keep running into Soaron. There may be a weak spot in the shield that transmits blast waves into the engine chassis instead of dispelling them. The vibrations are shaking the connections loose. I've got to recheck those shields when we get back. Maybe one of the emitters is faulty."

Jon wasn't certain, but he wondered if whatever was wrong with the ship had been caused by fights with Soaron or if Hawk had done something. Lately, he was growing more certain that Hawk was up to something. There were times when Hawk would 'arrange' for him and Jennifer to go on missions or to be alone to talk. He'd seen Hawk in his peripheral vision a few times as he walked away from them when they were playing chess. If Hawk was up to something, he had to know he was taking his life in his hands if he did anything to the jump ship.

Jon smiled and shook his head in amusement. "Everything's working now, Hawk?"

"_Ship shape and Bristol fashion,"_ Hawk explained, his voice cutting in and out of the static. _"There's no more vibration during deceleration."_

"What about Cipher?" Jon asked him.

"_We're on our way now, Captain,"_ Scout interrupted quickly. _"We're going to be out of contact for a few hours because Cipher asked us to go comm-quiet on approach. How are you two doing?"_

"We're en route. If luck's with us, we should be back in a couple of hours, but that storm may delay us until tomorrow. We'll contact Mentor if anything's wrong."

"_Roger that,"_ Hawk responded.

"Hawk, if this data –"

A burst of static screamed through the speaker.

"We've lost him, Captain," Jennifer said. "I don't know if it was the storm but whatever the interference is, it's just got worse and – we've got something on approach."

Jon whirled around in the seat. He couldn't see anything visually. "What direc-"

BAM!

The sky bike lurched to port as the blast hit just beside them. Jon craned his neck to see what was coming – "It's Soaron! Evasive maneuvers!"

Jennifer dove down, then turned sharply in the opposite direction.

"Steady," Jon called out as he pulled out his blaster and aimed at the biodread. He pulled the trigger and hit Soaron squarely in the wing, but it didn't slow him down.

"Surrender, organics!" Soaron shouted out to them.

"Not a chance," Jennifer muttered as she pulled the bike around sharply, dodging underneath Soaron and then flipping back around only to find Soaron had repeated her maneuver.

"Blasted biobird has learned some new tricks," she muttered.

They could hear Soaron's voice mumble something. He was reporting to Dread. "Dread knows Soaron's spotted us," he told Jennifer.

Jon fired again, the blaster not having any effect. "Let's see if this works," he muttered as he pulled out the mini-launcher and fired a grenade directly into Soaron's power center. Sparks flew out from the robot's armor and joints, overpowering his flight controls and disrupting his systems.

"Got him!" Jon yelled.

Soaron yelled in defiance and fired back one last shot, shooting off the port side landing pad of the sky bike.

"We're hit!" he yelled needlessly. "Pull up! Pull up!"

He could see Jennifer hanging on to the bike's controls as she tried to regain altitude. Without the landing gear, they were off balance. There was no way to keep up speed and altitude. They'd lost their ballast. Balance control was gone. The engines would spin them down to the ground. The only thing Jennifer could hope to do is keep their descent slow enough so it wouldn't kill them when they hit.

"No good. Hang on, Captain. We're going down!"

Jon saw the ground come speeding up toward them and grabbed Jennifer around the waist in anticipation of the crash. Jennifer pulled back with all her strength, Jon helped as best he could, but they were going to hit hard. Without the landing gear to balance the stabilizers, the bike couldn't stay in flight. They were going down.

"Can't level off," he heard Jennifer mutter. "No control. Panel's jammed - no way to ditch the other landing pad."

The ground got closer… closer… faster…

They hit!

Jon felt himself being tossed and tumbled head over feet and slammed into the hard dirt. He felt the sizzle and snap of his suit powering down as it absorbed the impact, protecting him. The last thought that crossed his mind before he fell unconscious was he didn't know where Jennifer was.


	19. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 2

**Volcania, Dread's throne room**

Dread waited. There was no sound, no locator signal, nothing to indicate Soaron had caught Power – or one of his crew. It had been long enough for him to intercept and capture whichever one of Power's team was in the area, hadn't it?

"Soaron? Respond," he ordered.

He was answered with only silence and intermittent static.

Overunit's voice answered him. "Unit Soaron incapacitated. Regeneration time 6.3 hours."

Incapacitated? Regeneration? Once again, his mighty warlord had been bested by a mere organic? This was intolerable.

Angry, Dread's words to Overmind sounded like an order. "Compute last position. Dispatch Blastarr. I want that data tape and Captain Power."

Power or whichever one of his team that was in the area. If Dread caught even one of that team, the others would come, and then he could capture Power. He would destroy them, one by one.

He would not be denied his victory.

**Power Base**

"_Database journal 47-11 Mark 3. Scout recording. Pilot and the captain have obtained an important data tape concerning Project New Order. They were reporting in when suddenly the transmission stopped."_

Scout shut off his recorder. That storm in-between them must have blocked the signal, so Scout wasn't worried. Not much, anyway. They were on their way home, all indications hinted that Dread's forces were other places, there was nothing to worry about, right? Besides, the captain and Jennifer could use a little time alone if Hawk's matchmaking efforts were meant to have any effect. They didn't always need to have the rest of the team around.

Scout picked up the rest of his gear and headed toward the launch bay to get his sky bike. He hoped the captain and Jennifer had fun because the rest of them would be working. They had a long ride to Cipher's new location, and waiting around the base wasn't going to make the distance any shorter.

**Oasis**

With a considerable amount of effort, Randall said, "Good breakfast, Uncle Gaelen."

Gaelen chuckled. "Nice try, Randall. You and I both know that the bread was burnt."

"And the oatmeal was a little soggy and much better than anything I could have cooked," Randall joked. "It's okay, Uncle Gaelen. I'll cook supper tonight."

"Well, I never said I was much of a hand in the kitchen. You don't remember your aunt, but she was an excellent cook. She usually ran me out of the kitchen. Something about not wanting her good utensils destroyed by someone who didn't know the difference between a spatula and serving fork. What she could do with vegetables was astounding. And you know me –"

"You're not a big fan of vegetables," Randall finished for him.

"No," he laughed at the memory. "What I wouldn't give for a Big Mac or a Whopper…"

Gaelen occasionally made mention of things that had once existed but were gone now. "What are those?"

"Hamburgers," Gaelen told him. "Something I hope you get to try someday when this war is over with. Now, enough about my lack of skills when it comes to making breakfast," he said laughing. "You go on out and help Clegg with the firewood. I'm going to help Arvin repair his roof before those rains get here, so what if we have a late lunch? Invite Clegg. By then, he'll be hungry too."

**Crash Site**

The first thing Jennifer was aware of was a dull pounding behind her eyes.

Then she felt the small rocks digging into her back.

Then the hard ground underneath her.

Every muscle was screaming, and the pounding in her head was getting louder. She grabbed her head, trying to drown out the pounding but it echoed in her ears. What had happened? They were flying on the skybike, right? Right. Why? Heading home? Then… Soaron attacked! He blew off the port side landing gear. She couldn't keep the bike in the air –

Jon!

She forced her eyes open and squinted against the inrush of bright light. Carefully, painfully, she looked around her. Her suit was gone – it would have absorbed the crash, and with that kind of impact, it would have overloaded the circuits and the suit would have shut down.

Jon… where was he? She slowly twisted around - he was lying beside her, his suit powered down as well – only _he wasn't moving_.

"Jon?" She half-crawled/half-pulled herself over to him. "You all right?" _Please be all right!_ She reached out and touched his chest – his heart was beating strong and steady.

Jon moaned. "Jon?" Jennifer grabbed the front of his shirt and helped him sit up. "Jon? Say you're all right."

"Ow," he muttered. He opened his eyes, looked around, looked at her, glanced at the sky bike just a few yards away, then her again… "Not one of your better landings," he quipped with a half-smile.

Oh, he was wanting to make jokes? One of her vehicles was damaged, they had crashed in the middle of nowhere and he was trying to make her smile? Well, two could play at that game. "Well, excuse me, co-pilot. Who was supposed to be watching out for biodreads?"

"Uh… he came at us from an unexpected angle and didn't show up radar?" Jon grinned as he sidestepped the answer.

"Keep telling yourself that," she answered. "Besides, you know the old saying. Any landing you can walk away from…"

"Yeah – ow!" Jon winced as he tried to move his leg.

Jon wasn't one to say _ow_ twice under normal circumstances. She glanced down at his leg and saw the bloody material. She mentally kicked herself. She should have checked him for injuries right away. Maybe she hit her head harder than she thought. She pulled out her crysblade and quickly sliced through his pants leg. His leg was a mess. "I take it back. You're not walking anywhere with that."

Great. Another problem. She did a quick assessment of their situation. Their transportation was out of commission. From the looks of the wires sticking out of the radio, it was gone too. Their suits were low on power. Soaron was in the area regenerating. The team was away from the base, and Jon couldn't walk. They were in trouble.

Jon pushed himself up a little bit, tried to find a more comfortable sitting position. "All right. Given our last position, we should be about twenty miles from the New Mexico border. There's a water station northeast of here. An oasis. They've helped resistance people before. You get there –"

"I'm not going to leave you here," she immediately argued. How hard had he hit his head? "We don't know when Soaron could be back, we've got no survival gear… I've got some reserve power in my suit. I'm going to carry you." There was no choice. She couldn't leave him there alone. It was too dangerous.

"There's not enough power in either of our suits, and you'd never make it," he reasoned. "That information is too important. You have to get that tape to Mentor."

Jennifer's mind began culling through other scenarios, other strategies and tactics. There had to be a way for them both to get out of there. "Well, if –"

"Jennifer," Jon's voice took on his _we don't have a choice_ tone, "that's an order."

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jon knew exactly how much trouble they were in and how limited their choices were. In fact, their choices were almost nonexistent. He could see his own fears, concerns and worries reflected in Jennifer's eyes. She was trying to figure out ways to get them out of there safely just as he was, but practicality had to take precedence. The information had to get to Mentor no matter what happened to them, and Jennifer was the only one who could still walk.

Still, the idea of sending her off to some town he'd never been to in some general direction with Soaron out there, her suit low on power with little to no defenses…

There was no choice, and the decision was ripping him apart inside. Him staying, her leaving – it could be suicide for both of them.

He glanced back at the rocky dune behind him. "There's some cover here with those rocks. It's high ground so I can see if anything is coming. It's a good place to hole up. Help me get back there."

He saw the look in her eyes. He knew that look. She had come to the same decision he had. They had to get the information safely away, and she was the only one who could do it. They knew what had to be done, and he could see that realization in the way she held herself. She scooted over behind him, hooked her arms under his and began to pull him back toward the rocks.

"Trust you to pull rank," she muttered.

Jon chuckled. "Got to do it sometime," he joked.

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Once Jennifer had him safely tucked up against the rocks, she limped the few yards back over to the sky bike. Her right leg was sore. She must have landed wrong. Her head had a dull ache from being knocked unconscious. All in all, a trek through the desert wouldn't be what a doctor would prescribe given her condition, but it didn't matter. She had to reach that water station. There was no choice. Jon was hurt. She'd crawl there if she had to.

Her first view of the radio was correct. It was too badly damaged, and there was no way to jury-rig it to send a message. The transmitter circuits were destroyed. The mini-launcher was gone. That brought up another concern. She checked her blaster. There was a crack in the casing. That meant a leak. It had maybe a few shots left in it. "How's your blaster?" she called back to him.

She saw him check his firearm. "Barrel's bent. It's useless."

So she had the only working firearm with enough power for maybe five shots if they were lucky. That wasn't good. She searched through the saddlebags. They were torn up pretty badly from the blast. What few rations that were in there were gone. They must have fallen out during their fall and could have been blown anywhere in a twenty mile radius. She found the first aid kit stuck in a fold of the saddlebag and then removed the leather strapping that lashed the bag to the bike. She glanced back at Jon who was watching her intently. Undoubtedly, he was worried about supplies as well? "The saddlebags are ripped open. The supplies are gone. So's the water," she told him.

Jon closed his eyes. Their luck was getting worse. Neither one of them would have water, and there was no telling how long they were going to be in the desert.

She limped back to him, took her crysblade and expertly cut away the bloody material of his pants leg. His leg needed a real doctor, not a medic. He might not have to have surgery, but there was no way a few stitches were going to fix the damage. She bandaged the wound and carefully splinted the limb. It should be okay, and he wouldn't lose any mobility in his leg if she could get help to him soon, but time wasn't their friend.

"That's all I can do with what we've got," she told him. "You need to keep your leg as still as possible, and try to keep the dirt from getting under the bandages."

"All right," Jon told her as he handed her the disk. "I'll manage. You get going. Keep an eye open. We don't know where Soaron fell."

"Okay," she said as she placed the disk in her pocket. "You keep my blaster. Just in case," she said as she handed him her sidearm.

Jon shook his head. "You need it. You'd be defenseless out there."

She placed her blaster by his side. "I've still got power in my suit, plus I'm mobile and you're not. It could make a difference."

She looked at him for what might have been the last time. Staying behind, walking into the desert, either way, it was dangerous.

"I'll be back soon," she told him. He nodded, halfway smiled. Then, without thinking, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, much to the surprise of them both. She stood, maneuvered down the rise and hurried off toward the northeast, moving as quickly as her limping leg would allow her.

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jon kept an eye on her as she walked away.

He watched her climb down the rocks, sliding half of the way, until she was finally at the base of the cliff and walking off into the distance. Step by step, he watched her until she was out of sight.

He looked up in the gray sky. No sound of a shrieking biodread, no sun beating down despite the arid atmosphere making the air uncomfortable. The area was remarkably free of biodreads for the moment, so she should be okay, right?

"_I'll be back soon,"_ she had said, then she kissed him on the cheek.

She'd never done that before. She'd never done anything that boldly emotional before. There had been the occasional hug on special occasions like celebrations in the Passages, but a spontaneous kiss like that? Not just spontaneous, but the type of kiss that connected two people. Not for the first time, Jon wondered what he should do or if he should do anything. He wanted that connection with her. The more time passed, the stronger that need grew, but with the war and the team and the danger that always lurked nearby, it wasn't practical to give in to wants and needs that weren't focused on more military matters.

Who was he trying to kid? That excuse didn't work anymore.

He was tired of letting the war run his life.

And _she_ had kissed _him_ on the cheek.

More and more, Jennifer was changing, and Jon found that very intriguing.

Jon knew his feelings about her had changed. Did that kiss mean that her feelings about him had changed? That she had different feelings for him? That she wanted that same kind of connection?

Maybe they could talk…

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

One step…

Two steps…

Walking worked out the soreness in her leg. Maybe it was just how she landed and not a pulled muscle? As long as the soreness was going away, she wasn't going to question it.

Another step…

There was one immutable rule about hiking long distances – it was very easy to get off course. She saw a mountain peak directly northeast of the crash site and kept it directly in front of her line of sight. The mountain could have been a dozen miles away, it could have been one hundred – it was impossible to tell. The desert was the birthplace of mirages and wrongly estimated distances. That, she knew all too well. She'd seen the desert plenty of times, especially when… no, she wasn't going to think about that. She had to stay focused. As long as she could keep up a steady pace, she could walk maybe two miles in one hour over the terrain if it was flat, but it wasn't. There were small hills, valleys, ravines she had to walk around. It took her at least one hour to hike one mile.

_And she had no idea how far she had to walk._

Something about the area seemed familiar to her. It felt like déjà vu. A rock formation here, a ravine there, something about this place was striking a familiar chord with her.

She couldn't figure out why it was familiar.

One step…

Two steps…

She had to keep count of the miles as she walked them off so she could send help back to Jon.

Jon…

She had kissed him.

She had kissed him!

What was she thinking?

Easy. She hadn't been.

She had been_ feeling_.

She'd kissed him. What was going through her mind? What did Jon think about her behavior? She didn't even know how he felt about her. If there was one thing she knew after living for years outside Volcania, a kiss was not something simple by definition. There was too much involved in the simple action. Some kisses were casual. There was the goodbye kiss, the hello kiss, the congratulatory kiss, the good luck kiss. Some were serious, like those between lovers or spouses. What could she call the kiss she gave him? Inappropriate?

Human relationships and behaviors still confused her at times. The first time she saw a kiss was when the team had taken her to one of Greta's clinics after they first found her. Other patients had family there who were very happy about their recovery or successful surgery. She saw a man kiss a woman after she had given birth. Later, she found out that the two were husband and wife – two terms she had never heard before. She saw a woman kiss a man when his knee surgery was completed. She saw a couple hug and kiss when they were told that their child would be fine after suffering a rare fever.

She hadn't asked about the behavior. She didn't know enough about the strangers around her to ask. She didn't know who to trust or who to talk to. All she knew was that she was in some alien world where people smiled. Water came from their eyes – that was her first experience with tears. And laughter! That was the oddest sound to her ears! All this strange behavior all around her, and they must have thought she was the one behaving oddly. Well, her behavior would have seemed strange to them. How many of them had ever sat down and talked with a Dread Youth before? They had no idea what a Dread Youth truly believed, how they were trained or why what they took for granted seemed strange to her. She had no idea then that she was riding on a wave of good luck.

Luck was one of those aspects that people took for granted. Strange things happened, both good and bad, without an apparent reason, and it was chalked up to this mysterious force known as 'luck.' A Dread Youth was taught logic and rationality as the proper thinking processes. The concept of chance wasn't known. It took Scout and Hawk teaching her how to play poker to understand that sometimes, things happen. Someone could draw to an inside straight without having a single clue what the card they were about to draw was. That was chance and luck if the card was the one needed. Sure, someone could argue statistics and probabilities, but when looking at the overall game, it was, as Hawk called it, a crapshoot sometimes. There were times when chance events occurred simultaneously for whatever reason and were considered "luck," either good or bad. Over the years, she knew she had been lucky to have been found by the Power Team. _That_ team wasn't like the others she'd worked with. Would Cipher's team have helped her? Included her? Wanted to know about her? She didn't think so. No, the guys were special. It took her a while to realize how special, but once she did, she never took the fact that it was Jon's team that found her for granted.

She also knew she had been lucky to meet up with the team when she did. All that time alone, all that time trying to hide from the clickers, she was exhausted and sick. She was so close to the end of her rope, so close to giving up, but they didn't let her. She was a stranger to them, but they took a chance on her. They got her help, and they took her in. They didn't judge her. If she had met anyone else…

_No, not going there._ It's like the cliché Hawk liked to say when things worked right – never look a gift horse in the mouth.

But she had kissed Jon. That wasn't chance or luck; it was deliberate. Did that change everything? Did that change their relationship or would he think it was just a goodbye kiss?

Was he uncomfortable with the fact that she had kissed him?

Was she?

One step…

Two steps…

She stopped for a moment to catch her breath. There were several cacti around. She took out her crysblade – some of Jon's blood was on the blade. She closed her eyes for a moment. He was hurt, bleeding and his leg wasn't going to get any better without medical attention. She could only take a brief break from her walk. She couldn't waste time, and Jon couldn't afford her to waste a single moment. She wiped the blade on her pants to clean it off, then she cut off the top of a rounded cactus, dug out some of the pulp and squeezed the liquid into her mouth. The action brought back some of her lessons in survival when she was a Dread Youth. Water was a necessity and had to be found quickly. Cactus water was acidic and could have detrimental effects on the body, but the lack of water would prove to be worse. She just needed enough to keep her going.

Food was the second necessity but a person could go some days without food. That was a small mercy. There were no animals running around, no wild root vegetables, nothing edible in sight. Survival training in the Dread Youth always had food available even if the soldiers had to find it for themselves. Their training never included desert settings though. Maybe Dread only wanted them to think that they were prepared to survive if they were on their own? Maybe it gave them a feeling of superiority of some kind? Of accomplishment? With Dread, there was no way to know what he was thinking. She didn't dwell on those times. They weren't pleasant memories. She focused on her mission instead, blocked out the bad memories and concentrated on reaching the water station.

She double-checked her bearings. The mountaintop to the northeast was still directly in front of her. She was still on track. She felt the sweat drip down her back and soak into her shirt. It was November. Should it be this warm even in the desert? In Colorado, she couldn't go outside the base without wearing a jacket. The desert was hot even though what sunlight there was filtered down through pollution and gray clouds. At night, it'd be cold. She knew that from experience too. She took another handful of the cactus pulp and squeezed down the back of her shirt to try to cool off a little. It helped, but not much. She took another glance at the mountain, and she saw snow on the mountaintop. It would be cold up there.

_Cold on the mountain…_

_Desert down below…_

_Rock formations…_

_Ravines…_

She looked behind her – saw where she had come from - no, it couldn't be. She _did_ know this area. She knew these rock formations and the ravines she was walking around. She'd been there before. She'd seen them from a distance through binoculars from a staging area. She'd seen them in satellite reproductions. She saw them through a forested view.

And the water station – a water station in that region of the southwest… what was the name of that water camp that a small group of nomads had established years ago? Oasis? It was a station now? Before, it hadn't even been considered a settlement. It was too small. It was more of a semi-permanent camp that no one paid any attention to because only about five people were camped there. It had been miles away and not even a consideration when she…

No, she wasn't going to think of that. She had to get there; she had to get help to Jon before Soaron regenerated and came after him… them… again. Maybe if luck was with them, she could find Oasis or some sort of civilization and get a transport to get Jon.

But what was she going to say to him when she saw him again? She had kissed him! Worse than that, the reasons behind why she knew the area… Jon didn't know all of it. She hadn't told him everything. If she ever told him the rest of the story, he'd understand, wouldn't he?

There were so many thoughts running through her mind…

Maybe they could talk…


	20. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 3

**Oasis**

So, lunch was going to be late. That didn't bother Randall. He loved his Uncle Gaelen, he was a great guy, he'd do anything for him, but the man couldn't cook. Even after years of attempts, Gaelen's best trick in the kitchen was burning water. Randall couldn't complain - he wasn't much better when it came to the culinary arts. The last time he tried to make bread… well, the rodents that lived in the desert liked what he threw out.

Clegg, however, had a cast iron stomach. Randall envied him that. He could eat anything.

Clegg could also work for hours chopping wood. He'd already chopped a full cord by the time Randall had arrived that morning. With the winters becoming more vicious, colder and windier every year, they always needed more firewood to get through the season. It was a very warm November 3rd, but that didn't mean anything. When winter came in, it came in like a lion – or so Uncle Gaelen said. It wasn't long before the December storms hit. They were almost as bad as the January storms. They had to be able to stay warm, so for hours, Randall hauled armload after armload of wood and stacked them against the wall. The wood would be their first defense against the cold. According to Arvin, the weather wasn't always like that. Years ago, the desert was warm during the day all year long and only got cold at night. Randall occasionally wondered why the desert had changed so much or maybe it was just another one of those things that existed before Dread came to power? Like Big Macs and Whoppers that the older folks liked to talk about?

"Randall!"

Randall turned at the sound of his name. He glanced around – there, near the main hall was his uncle motioning him back. That meant their late lunch was ready.

Oh, well, maybe lunch would be more filling than breakfast?

He walked back to the chopping block as Clegg finished off another chop and tapped him on the shoulder. "Uncle Gaelen just yelled. Food's ready."

"And not a moment too soon," Clegg said good-naturedly as he let the wood drop on the ground. They picked up the few pieces scattered around. "My breakfast wore off a long time ago."

"Mine too," Randall laughed.

"Let me guess. Gaelen cooked?"

"He tried. It was a valiant effort," he joked.

"He's still a better cook than either one of us." Clegg hefted the ax and admired it appreciatively. "You know, when I was a boy, my parents were carnies."

"What's that?" Randall asked.

"People who travelled around with carnivals, putting on acts. Something you've never seen. Carnivals are like magic. Ferris wheels, cotton candy, feats of strength and skill, fortunetellers, acrobats, tightrope walkers… my father had a knife-throwing act. When I was about five, he started throwing axes. You should have seen it. He could hit the center of an Ace of Spades from fifteen paces with an ax this size."

Clegg, too. Whenever the older ones started talking about the 'good ole' days' before Dread, Randall felt like he was listening to fairy tales. They used words he'd never heard of and talked about items he couldn't even dream about. "That's good?"

"It's excellent. And he taught me. There's a trick to being able to swing an ax all day without getting sore muscles. I'll teach you how to do it."

"Can you hit a clicker with that ax?"

Clegg smiled and handed Randall the ax. "Here. Take that. The blade needs sharpening."

Clegg placed one hand on Randall's shoulder as they walked away when Randall heard a weak, "Excuse me. I need your help."

Randall turned and saw a woman, older than him, standing there. She was dusty, sweaty, wearing a UTO uniform. Even Randall had heard of the United Transport Organization. She was one of their pilots? Whoever she was, she was exhausted – she must have walked a long way. She needed water. She looked worried, scared. Something was wrong. Randall was about to turn to call for the water bucket when something else grabbed his attention.

He saw her eyes.

Gray eyes.

_Emotion-filled_ eyes.

It was _those_ eyes.

The eyes he could never draw right.

It was her!

"You! It's you!" he yelled as he hefted the ax in both hands and ran toward her. He swung the ax at her. Looking surprised, she sidestepped, he missed, almost fell down from the momentum. He got to his feet and again, and he swung at her head. The woman dodged the blow, sidestepped and stood ready to counteract. Randall swung the ax at her again – she blocked the blow and slammed her fist on the side of the head, knocking him down.

"Randall!" Clegg grabbed him, held his arms down, grabbed the ax from him but didn't let go. "What's the matter with you, boy? Can't you see this woman's hurt? She needs help! What are you doing?"

Randall ignored the people charging out of the settlement to see what the disturbance was. He could only feel the fury and hate that he felt. "She's the one! She's the one who burned Sand Town! Kill her! Kill her!"

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Sand Town…

In that moment, Jennifer saw what occurred all those years ago as if the events had just happened.

"_Is this your first time in an organic settlement or your first cleansing?" Overunit Wilson asked Jennifer as she flew the ship toward their target settlement of Sand Town. _

"_My first cleansing, Overunit," Jennifer responded respectfully. Something was going on, she just couldn't figure out what it was. Did someone suspect that she was questioning everything she knew? Before they embarked on the assignment, she had been told that she had been specifically selected for the mission, along with the team she had been assigned to._

_Sitting more comfortably in the co-pilot's seat, the overunit responded with a smug, "Once we find the radio in Sand Town, we will teach the animals not to oppose us. It will be a glorious day for the Machine."_

_Glorious day. It took all of Jennifer's willpower to not respond to that. Not long before, about the same time she saw Youth Leader Colville transferred only it wasn't her personality existing in the biomech, she heard the prisoner they had captured confess that the radio was in Sand Town. That was their target. They'd tortured a man for a radio. Why would a radio be such a threatening problem that torture had been used to determine its location?_

_She had so many questions, but she didn't know who she could trust. Overunit Wilson was a true believer with no doubts at all. Jennifer knew she couldn't speak to her. "Yes, Overunit. A glorious day."_

_There was a slight pause, then the overunit continued her version of small talk. "I understand you are up for promotion to overunit yourself, Youth Leader Chase."_

_Jennifer had only received notification of her promotion a mere hour before deployment. The overunit already knew? "Yes, Overunit. My orders were approved just prior to this mission."_

_Overunit Wilson smiled and nodded her head. "It is an honor to serve the Machine, to see this world through its transition to the new world Lord Dread will bring forth. Your name has been brought to the personal attention of Overmind and Lord Dread. You've proven that your abilities would be better serve the Machine as an overunit. I'm sure you are also aware that along with the distinction of being the youngest youth leader ever appointed, you will now be the youngest overunit?"_

_The youngest? Did that really mean anything anymore? "I had not considered that fact, Overunit," Jennifer confessed. Then, forcing herself to speak with fake gratitude, she said, "I am honored that my performance serving the Machine has found favor with Lord Dread."_

"_Is it my understanding that you wish to continue as a pilot?"_

_Jennifer knew she had to tread carefully. She spoke the answer in words pleasing to a true believer. "If it is the will of the Machine. However, if I am given a choice, I would like to continue being a pilot. I believe my flying skills would allow me to better serve the Empire than other assigned positions."_

_The overunit considered this. "Well spoken, Youth Leader Chase. Your devotion to the Machine and to Lord Dread will not go unrewarded. I, myself, have submitted a recommendation that you be placed as an overunit in command of your own squadron in the Aerial Defense Command and Recon Unit. It was approved. I hope you find that satisfactory."_

_Just a few days before, that news would have made Jennifer proud to be a Dread Youth. That day… "I was not aware that any Dread Youth was in the Recon Unit. I understood that only biomech pilots and drone ships currently staffed the Defense Command."_

"_Only biomech pilots and drones are allowed in the Recon Unit," the overunit agreed. "You are to be congratulated for such distinction, Youth Leader." _

_They planned to make her an overunit, transfer her to a biomech body and allow her to lead a recon unit? The overunit knew she was scheduled to be transferred? Immediately, Jennifer answered as a 'loyal' Dread Youth would. "I will endeavor to prove myself worthy of such consideration, Overunit."_

"_I have no doubt you will, Youth Leader Chase. Should the Sand Town mission prove successful, your promotion to overunit will be immediate upon return to Volcania. However, the promotion ceremony will take place at the time other youth leaders receive theirs. Lord Dread himself wishes to honor your particular ascendancy through the ranks at that ceremony to show others what a true Dread Youth soldier is."_

_Jennifer didn't know what to say. She was being singled out by Dread himself? She was being made a token? A figurehead for Dread to use to illustrate his lies? And the ceremony? She knew – she was to be transferred and paraded around in front of the rest of the Corps. "I don't believe the word 'honored' is sufficient for such recognition by Lord Dread," she told the overunit. "I don't know what word could express such acknowledgement."_

_The overunit sat back and watched the terrain passing by the viewport. "I understand. Such singular attention must be overwhelming. The other members of your team are being likewise considered for similar but specific assignments; however, none are in line for a military promotion. Conduct yourself well at Sand Town, the promotion to overunit is yours immediately with the transfer to be conducted in a few days. Otherwise, the promotion must wait. This is no blemish on your record, Youth Leader. It is merely a… an internal political matter among your superiors."_

_Jennifer had no idea what she was talking about, and she didn't really care. Now, she knew for a fact that she was to be one of the individuals transferred into a metal body after this mission. Politics or not, given her doubts, if she didn't find a way to escape, someone would figure out that she wasn't a devout believer anymore. That would mean execution or digitization, not freedom._

_And she did not want to be put into a metalloid body, not after finding out what happened to Colville, not ever._

_She just had to bide her time for the moment… but if she did get her promotion to overunit, that could open up avenues she didn't have as a youth leader… but time would not be on her side after she returned from Sand Town…_

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

_Nighttime._

_Southwest._

_It should have been a simple assignment. Find the radio and punish the 'animals' for opposing Dread as ordered – but why was having a radio considered such treasonous opposition? One thing was certain; the people in Sand Town weren't animals. They were people trying to survive in a harsh world, trying to keep their families alive. This wasn't the first time Jennifer had seen individuals outside of Volcania, but it was the first time she looked closely. _

_All the litanies she had ever learned echoed through her mind. All the litanies – they were designed to condition a Dread Youth soldier to murder innocent people? No, Dread didn't consider them innocent. Anyone who opposed the Machine was considered the enemy and had to be cleansed. _

_Cleansed – she had never considered what that word meant. The overunit kept saying that the opposers had to be cleansed and punished. The litanies taught that they had to be cleansed. Jennifer had no idea what form that punishment 'cleansing' would take._

_Jennifer found the radio hidden away in one of the houses the overunit directed her to search. She packed it up quickly and handed it to her cadet assistant with orders to destroy it. The sooner it was removed, the sooner the soldiers could leave. Now, the rule was to burn a few homes as a reminder of what would happen to people who opposed Dread. _

"_Youth Leader Chase?" her assistant returned quickly. "Overunit Wilson is requesting you report personally with an update."_

_The overunit. Jennifer had to report or … the alternative was unthinkable. She couldn't behave as if anything was wrong, as if everything she was seeing was horrifying her._

_She looked around the small house one last time. Except for some homemade furniture – beds, chairs, table, kitchen utensils – it was fairly empty. There was no sign that whoever lived there had been there for hours. "Cadet, make certain this house is destroyed," she ordered, every fiber in her being fighting against the decision. There was no choice for her. She had to say those things. She had to behave as any other youth leader loyal to Dread or she would be cut down as a traitor where she stood._

_Immediately, she marched out of the house and into the main quad of the settlement. There, Overunit Wilson waited with the lead biomech and another cadet. _

"_Youth Leader Chase, report."_

"_We have located the radio and are proceeding as planned."_

_Overunit Wilson smiled, but it was a sanctimonious sort of smile. Why? They had cleansed the town by finding the radio and informing the organics that any further opposition to Dread would be punished… what was going on?_

_An explosion burst to the right of her as a building was utterly destroyed by a missile. Dead bodies lay everywhere. Biomechs gunned down innocent people trying to escape. They had the radio! Why were they doing this?_

_A biomech had a young woman by the arm, dragging her toward a group of other men and women who were guarded by other biomechs. "This one will be a good worker," the robot said. "Give them to the commanders for disposition."_

_Disposition? Did that mean something other than what she thought? What kinds of workers would these people be? _

_A commander on the overunit's personal staff walked toward the overunit. "Too many old ones," she heard him mutter. "Not enough of them are physically fit for the slave mines."_

_Slave mines? What were they talking about? There were no slave mines._

_Then again… so many lies… there were slave mines?_

"_They can fill other positions," the overunit suggested. _

_Jennifer saw people moving in the shadows. Two biomechs were heading in their direction. She had to help them. If she could help just a few escape… _

_Quickly, spontaneously, Jennifer approached the biomechs._

"_Report."_

_Both biomechs stopped and turned toward her. Jennifer could see the escapees taking advantage of the situation and running toward the next building, still hidden by the dark. _

"_Prisoners are being gathered, Youth Leader. All houses in the fourth quadrant have been destroyed. We are proceeding to the third quadrant to effect maximum destruction."_

_Jennifer nodded. There was nothing else she could do._

_The screams shook the air. One by one, the biomechs were capturing people, killing others, destroying even more with guns and missiles. She heard a strange noise amidst the screams. She tried to ignore it. She returned to her position by the overunit, but the noise continued. She excused herself on the pretense of checking a building for other people hiding inside. She walked steadily in the direction of the noise – behind one of the houses, Soaron was there. When had he arrived? Biomechs dragged resisting prisoners toward the biodread._

"_More to digitize?" Soaron taunted them as he pointed his digitizing beam at the scared settlers and they disappeared into his storage cells. _

_Jennifer turned from the carnage. What could she do? How could she stop this? The killing, the enslaving – everywhere, people were crying and screaming as they ran from the invaders. Everything she had ever known had come under question the last few days. Now, her entire perception was shattered unalterably. THIS was what the slogans meant. THIS was what wearing the uniform meant. There was no new world order. There was no world in transition. It was machines slaughtering humans._

_And she was helpless to stop it!_

_One yell, one protest, and she'd be dead. If she tried to help anyone else escape, they'd all be cut down by the biomechs. She had been especially chosen for the mission to Sand Town for some reason she wasn't sure about yet. She was being scrutinized more closely by the overunit than she ever had been before. One mistake, one misstep… _

"_Youth Leader Chase, come with me," Overunit Wilson marched by. She didn't look back to see if Jennifer followed. It was expected, so Jennifer did what she was told. Over twenty years of conditioning to obey orders from superior officers was too well ingrained in her. It was habit, reflex. She was walking before she consciously thought about putting one foot in front of the other. _

_More biomechs dragged prisoners past her position. Some were lined up nearby and were placed under heavy guard. Others were taken toward Soaron's position to be digitized. There were so many lying dead on the ground…_

"_Please, let me go!" the woman cried, grabbing at the biomech's fingers to pry it off her arm. _

"_Silence, organic," the robot ordered._

_The other biomech dropped a grown man at the feet of the woman. "This one looks healthy. He'll last in the slave mines a while." _

_The overunit led Jennifer to a group of prisoners forced to face one of the main buildings. From the reports Jennifer had heard, perhaps one hundred organics were taking refuge there – it was called a church. She didn't know what type of building that was, but at the moment, they seemed to consider it a sanctuary offering protection of some sort._

"_You have been gathered to witness the punishment of those who oppose the will of the Machine," the overunit said over the noise of the fighting. "This is the shelter of those who oppose the way. Youth Leader, what do we do with those who oppose the way?"_

_Completely by habit, just as she had answered the same question unthinking thousands of times in the classroom, Jennifer responded to the slogan with the only prescribed answer allowed by the Dread Youth. "Cleanse them."_

_Smugly, the overunit yelled into her microphone. "Cleanse them! Judgment has been rendered. The accused have been found. Let them be cleansed now and for all time. Fire!"_

_The biomechs launched the missile into the church, destroying it in a brilliant blast that lit up the night sky. The prisoners around the quad cried, moaned, wailed in mourning for their lost friends and family._

_Jennifer watched the fire burn. It was gone. Everything she had ever believed, everything she had ever thought – gone up in smoke as surely as if her convictions had been in that building. All the lies had ripped her raw and left her empty. Youth Leader Chase was gone, and she didn't know what was left. She didn't know if anything was left._

"_You've done well today, Youth Leader Chase," Overunit Wilson praised her. "Your promotion to overunit is now assured."_

She was brought back to reality by the boy's shouts to the townspeople.

"She's the one who burned Sand Town! Kill her! Kill her! They burned my family!"

The man holding the boy, keeping him from attacking her added, "I lost my family in Sand Town, too."

"Enough!" Another man entered the melee. "Is this how we treat human life in Oasis?"

"She's not human, Arvin!" Randall protested. "She's a murderer!"

"Enough!" Arvin yelled. "Clegg, what's going on here?

Clegg cleared his throat and nodded toward Jennifer. "Randall says she was responsible for Sand Town."

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Arvin thought for a moment. He looked carefully at Jennifer, but he didn't see a monster capable of destroying countless human lives standing there. He knew monsters all too well. He had seen them, trained them and watched them work. He knew the demons that existed in the human race better than most, saw the ones designed by more heinous minds, and this woman wasn't like anyone from his experience. Regardless, most of Oasis was made up of Sand Town refugees. He needed to take control of the situation before there was a riot and a lynching. "Sand Town was destroyed by the Dread Youth, biomechs and Soaron years ago. Randall was just a boy. He could be mistaken." Arvin glanced around at the crowd. "Gaelen? Do you recognize her?"

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Gaelen approached her, staring at her. He seemed familiar, but Jennifer couldn't place him. She wouldn't remember what someone who was in Sand Town looked like, could she? It was so many years ago, at night, the smoke from the fires choked the air -

"You were there that night, weren't you, Gaelen?" Arvin asked.

"Yes, Arvin. I was there," Gaelen confirmed. "And so was she."

"Kill her!" someone from the crowd yelled.

Jennifer had to act fast or Jon was lost. "Please, I'm not a spy. I promise you, I'm not a spy. I'm a resistance fighter for Captain Power's team."

"Captain Power?" Arvin said aloud. "Hmmmm…. yes, I know about him. We've heard of him, especially of late. Resistance group in the Midwest…"

Jennifer pushed her luck. "He's injured very badly. I need your help. Can you please send someone to help him? Please?"

Arvin had an interesting look on his face that Jennifer couldn't place. If they thought she was Dread Youth, they could just kill her. That would mean Jon's death and the loss of the data tape. It could also mean the loss of everyone at Oasis if Soaron came looking for the data tape.

"Don't listen to her!" Randall called out again. "She's lying. Dread has never changed, neither has his soldiers! Kill her! Kill her!"

"Enough!" Arvin yelled again. "No more talk of killing. We're not like Dread. We're human beings. Precious few of us left, Randall. You claim that this woman was at Sand Town and that she killed people there. If this woman is guilty of something, we'll deal with it like human beings according to our laws. We'll hold a tribunal. Gaelen, you're Randall's guardian. Do you agree?"

Gaelen couldn't look at Jennifer. Why? "Yes, that's fair."

Arvin approached Jennifer. "We'll gather now in the main hall for a trial if you agree to this and accept our judgment?"

"Why are you asking her?" Randall wanted to know.

Arvin had the cryptic look on his face again. "For other reasons you wouldn't understand, Randall." He turned back to Jennifer. "What say you?"

Without hesitation, Jennifer said, "If you'll send someone to help Captain Power. He's five miles directly southwest of here. I couldn't get here by a direct path. I had to walk across what might have been a dry lake bed, and I had to go around three chasms. He's in a direct southwestern line from that mountain," she pointed to a mountain on the other side of Oasis. "He's on a rise overlooking the area. Please, he's hurt. Send help… I'll do what you say."

That seemed to satisfy Arvin. "Martin, Jack, take your crawler. See what you can find out there. If you go by road, you should be there in about a half hour. Take a first aid kit with you as well."

"I can't believe this," Randall muttered.

"Randall," Arvin reprimanded gently. "We don't leave wounded people stranded in the desert." Then, looking back at Jennifer and said in a low voice, "I think there's more to you than meets the eye. You're wearing a UTO uniform, which means you've flown with them. Those are some of the bravest people in the war since they act as guards for transports and haul just about everything on convoys. You're on Captain Power's team… I have heard a great deal about him and the people he works with."

Jennifer didn't understand. "He's the one who sent me here because you've helped resistance groups before. But the captain's been fighting Dread for fifteen years. I thought everyone had heard of him."

Arvin smiled in an odd way again. "In more ways than you can imagine."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and led her into the settlement.


	21. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 4

**Volcania**

"Overmind, what is Soaron's status?" Dread asked.

Within moments, Overmind's voice answered, "Regeneration time has been extended due to the harsh climate. Blastarr will rendezvous with Soaron within the hour."

They were losing time. That was unacceptable.

"We must increase our patrols in the area," Dread concluded. "We should maintain a presence there."

"Agreed. However, the organic population is sparse. We need only a few patrols. The Recon Unit would suffice. We should not diminish the number of ground troops in more populated areas."

"Perhaps." Dread didn't like the idea that there were no biomechs in the area to give any assistance to one of his warlords.

A thought crossed Dread's mind… Overunit Grieg's information held that the organic Circuit came from the northwest while Dread's sources indicate that he was from the southwest. There were few of Dread's forces in that area… that would be an ideal location for spies and hackers to hide. Maybe part of the reason Dread couldn't track the source of the information leak was because there was no one looking in certain areas such as the southwest?

He would have to investigate that thought further.

**Crash Site**

It had been hours. Jon had kept a tight watch on his chrono the entire time. He was worried about Jennifer. Was she still walking? Had she found Oasis? Had she found water? Was she safe? He'd sent her off in a general direction to a town he had never been to and had no idea of its exact location. A direction wasn't a location. Just heading northeast didn't mean anything in the desert.

There was no choice. The information was too important.

_Right, keep telling yourself that, Jon. Maybe it'll make you feel better. _

He wiped the sweat off his forehead. The desert was hot during the day, even in the early part of wintertime. If it had been a month later, the winter storms would have started and cooled everything down. His meager shade didn't keep the heat away, and Jennifer was out in the open, walking in a direction that just might take her deeper into the desert…

He glanced again in the direction she had gone. Directly before him in the distance was a mountain with a brilliant snowcap. He could imagine it being rather cold on that mountaintop… strange, but the sight looked familiar to him. Had he seen that mountain before? Or did one mountain look like any other? He didn't recall being this far to the southwest recently. Maybe years ago? That was entirely possible. They used to perform recons out this far once, but the lack of humans establishing numerous settlements along with the lack of resources made recons in the area less effective. Their time and resources could be better served in areas that could sustain a population.

Then again, since the area wasn't populated, Dread didn't keep many troops there. That meant Jennifer could move around more safely than in other places. Jon glanced down at the blaster. The power reading was less than it had been. He picked up the weapon and inspected the power cell. "Great," he muttered to himself. "The hairline crack's expanded." The cell was losing its charge faster due to casing damage. The blaster wouldn't have done Jennifer any good had she taken it with her and she ran into trouble.

It also meant they were both weaponless in the desert with who-knows-what out there.

The heat was becoming overbearing. "Not the greatest rest stop I've been to," he muttered. He had to remember to start packing games on the bikes when they went out from now on. Even a book would be a good way to pass the time.

Speaking of books, the ones he and Mentor were making for Jennifer were getting closer to being finished. She'd be surprised; at least, he hoped she would be. _He hoped they'd be alive so he could give her the books_. It'd been difficult keeping the books a secret from the others as well. Jon wanted to be the one to give them to her as a present, but more than that, he wanted them to be a personal gift. There was one story in particular he thought she might like that he was trying to find the text for – A Little Princess. It had been one of his mother's favorites, but he'd never read it himself. His mom would say that she had to pull the book out every few years and re-read it. Maybe Jennifer would feel the same way? He hoped so.

He looked at his chrono again. Another ten minutes had passed. There was no sound, no shriek from Soaron screaming from the sky, no sound of anything but the desert wind and his own breathing.

He was getting so thirsty. There was a cactus on the ridge with him, but it was the only one. If he cut into it too soon, he could use up all the water before any help came. But it was the desert… he knew he'd waited as long as he could. He was wounded, he was hot, he needed water. He inched his way over to the cactus, pulled out his knife and cut off the top. "Sorry, but I need a drink," he said to the cactus, needing to hear the sound of his own voice again. He pulled out some of the pulp, squeezed the liquid into his mouth, and let it dribble on his forehead.

It helped, but the one thought that kept going through his mind was whether or not Jennifer had found water or cactus on the way to the water station.

He wondered if she had reached the water station and was safe.

She had to be.

**Soaron's Crash Site**

_Power Systems: Online_

_Systems Check: In Process_

_Regeneration Time: 6.2 hours initial regeneration, 2.3 hours additional due to climate_

_Communications: Offline_

Soaron checked his systems again. The regeneration was taking too long. He had knocked Power and his teammate out of the sky; he had to go find them before any desert creatures carried off the bodies. He had no way to contact his lord. He couldn't report in that Power was down.

All he could do was wait and regenerate.

_Proximity Alert. Blastarr approaching, _his sensors reported.

Soaron looked over, saw the bothersome land-locked warlord coming toward him, and groaned. He hated that inferior robot. Blastarr had human minds in his processing core. Blastarr was a being that was considered to be far less than the perfect Machine by Overmind. In fact, every pure machine entity may have considered him a lesser mechanical being. He was like some of those biomechs with human minds – weaker, less mechanical, inferior. Soaron was a perfect example of the Machine. He was elegance in flight, faultless in logic, a being untarnished by the lesser creatures. Lord Dread considered Blastarr the next step in merging the human and the mechanical? Overmind was correct – the sooner the world was rid of such inferiority, the sooner the world of the Machine could exist.

Until that glorious day happened, Soaron would follow Overmind's orders to work with Blastarr and obey Lord Dread's orders without question. It was his programming; he would not disobey.

"So the mighty air lord is struck once more," Blastarr taunted him as he came closer.

Soaron may have to work with Blastarr, but he didn't have to put up with his insolence. "Beware your tongue, ground crawler, or when my regeneration is complete –"

Blastarr reached down, grabbed Soaron's leg and ripped it off. He casually tossed it over his shoulder amidst Soaron's screams of pain.

"Where is the organic Power?" Blastarr demanded.

If there was one thing Soaron could do, it was best Blastarr in a battle of one-ups-manship. "You are too late!" he taunted him. "I already destroyed him plus his companion."

"Unconfirmed!" Blastarr argued. He grabbed Soaron by the throat and yanked him up off the ground.

Soaron tried to grab Blastarr's hand, but his power was not up to 100%. He didn't have the strength to fight back or pull away.

"State their last known position!" Blastarr demanded.

The slow-witted ground crawler wanted the credit of destroying Power for himself? "Never!"

"Never?" Blastarr shook Soaron violently, knocking his regeneration systems into stand-by. "Never? State Power's last know position!"

Soaron refused to answer. Blastarr tightened his grip around the warlord's throat.

Soaron stubbornly remained silent, then an audio file implanted in his system by Overmind played in his processor. "_Work with Blastarr even if it means demeaning yourself for now. Soon, anything remotely associated with the organics including Blastarr and the biomechs with human minds will no longer trouble us_."

"Speak!" Blastarr ordered.

Obeying Overmind's standing orders, Soaron mumbled, "Coordinates nine-two-seven."

Blastarr ceased shaking him and dropped him back onto the desert floor. "A wise decision, scrapheap," he said as he sped off in the general direction of the crash.

_Power Systems: Online_

_Systems Check: In Process_

_Regeneration Time: 6.2 hours initial regeneration, 2.3 hours additional due to system going off-line, .2 hours additional time possible due to damage caused by biodread_

_Communications: Online_

Communications were online? He beamed a secure beam toward Volcania, on a secure frequency only he and Overmind shared.

"_Speak, Unit Soaron,"_ Overmind's voice sounded in his internal communications system.

"Blastarr arrived at my location, and I gave him the location of the crash site where Power went down as per standing orders. He is moving towards that site now."

There was a pause, then, _"Well done, Soaron. Follow your primary programming when dealing with Blastarr. Allow him his victories for now. When your regeneration mode is complete, follow Blastarr, determine Power's condition, and regain the data tape. Digitization is not an option if Power's armored suit is intact. If Power is alive, leave him for Blastarr to destroy. If he fails, then his failure will work against him and not us. If he succeeds, then Power's destruction will aid all efforts."_

"What of Power's companion?" Soaron asked.

Another pause._ "The companion is of no concern. It is merely another organic of no influence. Power is a danger to the Machine Empire and his destruction must take precedence over any of his team. Are you in any danger at your location?"_

"_No, my lord. All is silent."_

"_Follow Blastarr as quickly as you can. I will tell Dread that your communication abilities are still regenerating."_

"As you will, my lord," Soaron answered. He glanced over at his ripped off leg. With an angry sigh, he started dragging himself toward the limb so he could reattach it and let the wound regenerate.

**Oasis**

How long had it been? Jennifer checked her chrono. Ten minutes maybe? Fifteen since the crawler headed out for Jon's location? Was he still all right? Had he found shade against the heat? Did he find access to water? Had Soaron regenerated and found him?

She shook her head slightly and forced her attention on what was happening. She was being put on trial for what she did years ago at Sand Town, and she agreed to comply with their judgment if they went after Jon. She did it willingly and would do it again not only if it meant Jon would be reached in time, but also because she had been there that day. She would never deny her part in what happened. The survivors had every right to demand satisfaction.

She was scared.

People died at Sand Town, and she had given the order. She had to pay.

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Arvin hammered the gavel on the table. "Silence, everyone," he said. He glanced at the woman sitting at the end of the table. She hadn't given them any trouble. She went where they led her, sat where they told her and even thanked them when they gave her water before going into the main hall. She'd walked a long way. Maybe Captain Power was five miles away as the crow flies, but she had walked further since she had to walk around ravines, boulders and other natural impediments that obstructed her path. Arvin mentally kicked himself for not immediately offering her water. What kind of a person was he to not getting water to her when he saw she was hurt?

In all his years working with the government before the wars began and in all the years he'd lived in the wastelands afterwards, he'd never seen a Dread Youth willingly risk their life for another person, not even for another one of Dread's soldiers. Yes, she was a Dread Youth – she had all the telltale physical markers he had studied - but how could anyone believe that this person who willingly put herself in their hands could possibly have ordered the deaths of dozens? Hundreds?

He knew from the moment he saw her and looked into her eyes that she was not any ordinary fighter. When he learned she was not only with the UTO but also a resistance fighter on Captain Power's team, he knew she was something much more than a mere soldier. He'd heard rumors and been told story after story of Power's team from visiting resistance fighters and passing nomadic groups. Some of them seemed far-fetched given what Arvin knew of human psychology, but now, to see her there at Oasis, he was beginning to doubt his previous assessment of the rumors. If a few particular stories circulating in certain circles about the members of the team were true …No, she was no typical Dread Youth if indeed she had been. She wore the Power Team armor and fought other Dread soldiers and biomechs. Those stories circulating about who made up the Power Team, what they did, what they risked – maybe there was hope for humanity after all.

No, he would not mention the stories. The tales had been told to him in confidence; he would not repeat them at the tribunal under any circumstances. Not everyone had his security clearance with the resistance groups.

But – rumors weren't facts, but if the rumors were true, how could he convince the rest of the townsfolk that there was more going on with this young woman than what they may be thinking?

He would let time and circumstances dictate his actions. It was all he could do.

Randall sat in a chair before the long table, some of the other Sand Town survivors gathered in the gallery. All had a vested interest, but Arvin could tell that there were others who would have gladly shot the woman down without a second thought.

This could get very bad, very fast.

"Miss," Arvin turned his attention back to her, "would you please state your name for the court?"

"Corporal Jennifer Chase. I'm the pilot for the Power Team," she said.

"She's lying!" Randall yelled, a murmur of agreement sounding behind him.

Arvin hit the gavel on the table again. "One more outburst, anything that disrupts these proceedings, and I will clear this room except for the person testifying." He looked sternly at everyone in the building. Even Randall looked away from him. "She is Corporal Jennifer Chase, the pilot for the Power Team, a resistance group who has successfully fought Dread for some years. That is how it will be recorded in the transcript. All right, Randall," Arvin tried again. "Tell us your story. Exactly as you remember it."

Randall cleared his throat, and said in a rather tremulous voice, "Um, it was summer. I remember because it was hot, and we worked in the fields at night. Uncle Gaelen had gone out the week before with a group of hunters to find game but had been captured by Dread's robots. The others barely escaped with their lives to come back and tell us what happened. Otherwise, he'd have been in the fields with us, working that night. I was putting in a row of corn and suddenly there was Uncle Gaelen walking out of the dark. I was surprised to see him because they said he had been taken away to a slave mine and no one escapes those. Uncle Gaelen said he had to see my father right away to warn him."

"Warn him?" Arvin asked. "About what?"

"He didn't tell me. So we started back to Sand Town. When we got to my house, Dread's soldiers were there. We ran into another building to hide from them. Then she," he pointed at Jennifer, "marched up to the overunit, pointed to my house and said something to the overunit. They were smiling. Smiling as if it was some kind of joke! And then…"

Arvin waited, but Randall didn't continue. "Did you hear what they said?" he asked the boy.

Randall thought for a moment, then looked at Jennifer. "She said that they had located the radio and were proceeding as planned."

"A radio?" Arvin asked. "Dread's troops were _looking_ for a radio?"

Randall nodded. "My father was the one who hid the radio. It's how he talked to other settlements."

Arvin was beginning to get a better picture of what happened in Sand Town. "Who knew the radio was there?"

Randall thought for a moment. "A lot of people, I think. I did. Uncle Gaelen did. I don't know who else."

Gaelen, Randall and Randall's father… only those three knew the radio was there? Was that possible? Could others have known? He addressed the others in the gallery. "Was it common knowledge at the time that a radio was hidden in Sand Town?"

Spectators shook their heads. It was as Arvin thought. Only three people in Sand Town knew that a radio was there.

"Dread knew," Randall protested.

Yes, Dread knew there was a radio, but he didn't know where it was hidden. Arvin dreaded where his thoughts were going. "Do you know what the radio was used for?"

Randall frowned. "To talk to other settlements all over the region. Listen for news. My father talked to some lady who wanted to set up a radio network so people could communicate with each other and share news and hear about the war against Dread."

"A lady?" Arvin mused. "Hmmm, there's one lady prevalent on the radio frequencies these days… short range though," he mumbled. Arvin had to tread carefully. "Randall, do you know why they were specifically looking for the radio? Do you know what a radio represented to Dread?"

Randall shook his head. "It's a machine that he doesn't control?"

There was a murmur and a slight laughter at his comment. Arvin looked at his gavel, then at Chase, and then at Randall. "No. Radios were and still are the main source of communications that allow a concentrated, coordinated resistance against Dread. In the past, when someone orchestrated a coup, one of the first things they did was capture all communications capabilities so no resistance group could talk to another, know what's happening or allow them to make plans to fight back. Some years ago, there was an effort to get radios to as many settlements as possible to try to create a more organized resistance. Dread started to go after them with a powerful will. No matter what your father's purpose was for having a radio, it must have meant only one thing to Dread." Arvin let that information sink into Randall's perception. "Did your father tell anyone he spoke with on the radio that he was from Sand Town?"

Randall shook his head, almost violently. "He was scared to. He didn't know if someone else was listening. He said he didn't want to lead any of Dread's troops back to Sand Town. Doesn't matter, though. They came anyway and found the radio." His voice took on a rather annoyed edge.

Arvin altered his line of questioning. "How long did your father have the radio?"

"A couple of years, I think. I'm not sure. Doesn't matter. The Dreadheads found it."

"And then they proceeded as planned," Arvin muttered. "Randall, do you know what the Dread Youth code of punishment is for finding a radio in a settlement where people are believed to be in opposition to Dread?"

Randall shook his head. "No," he answered impatiently.

"Just before the Sand Town massacre, there was a procedure that the Dread Youth followed precisely. The radio was confiscated and the building was burned to the ground as a punishment to anyone that hides one. Some were taken prisoner. That is what overunits _typically _order in such situations."

Randall looked confused. "And?"

Arvin cleared his throat. "Then, that year, things changed. Dread changed his tactics when attacking towns. He destroyed many settlements during that time. Sand Town would have been no different, but that year, the fact that a radio was there would have made it a primary target in Dread's mind." A radio. That would have explained the thoroughness of the overunit when destroying the town. "When you heard the words 'proceeding as planned,' what was happening at your house?"

"It was being burned!" Randall almost shouted.

"And that was where the radio was hidden, so they were following the older procedure," Arvin said lowly, mostly to himself but he knew everyone heard. "Where was your father?" Arvin asked.

"Hiding in the underground room under our house," he muttered.

Arvin looked over at Jennifer and saw her close her eyes sympathetically, a frown furrowing her brow. He saw a tear form in her eyes. He'd been right about her. There was more to her than anyone knew.

"How well hidden was this underground room?"

"Very well hidden," Randall said. "It had to be. It's where we would hide whenever biomechs came around so they couldn't find us. It had always been safe before."

A thought crossed Arvin's mind. "Why wasn't the radio hidden in the underground room?"

"There was no reception down there, but it doesn't matter! They burned my family! She burned them!"

Arvin hit the gavel on the table again. Maybe if Arvin kept too much emotion from being shown or the truth wouldn't come out. He'd had a sneaking suspicion of what brought the Sand Town population to his small settlement years ago, but now to have them confirmed… "That's all, Randall."

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

The boy's father had been under the house, and Jennifer had ordered it burned as per procedure. She followed procedure as she'd been ordered to do, as it was dictated she do. She found the radio, and gave the order to have the house burned. She had condemned a man to a horrific death, and she didn't know. She wouldn't have fired the house if she had known that he'd been in there! Everything she saw in the house made her think that no one had been there for hours!

The thought kept running through her head. She had, by her own order, killed a man even though she didn't know he had been in the house. She could never make up for that.

**Back at Jon's site**

Jon could have sworn that his chrono hadn't changed.

Maybe because less than two minutes had passed since the last time he looked at it?

Had Jennifer reached Oasis? Was she safe? Was she all right? Was she hurt, lying in the middle of the desert knowing no help was coming…

His thoughts were interrupted by a mechanical sound. It wasn't Soaron. A tram of some kind perhaps? He dragged himself over to the edge of the ridge and kept his head down, out of sight. He waited, the sound came closer, then, a crawler came into view. A crawler! That meant Jennifer had reached the water station! She was all right! She had to be. Oh, that crawler brought back some memories… His dad had taught Jon to drive in a crawler. They weren't quick, but they were sturdy and handled all sorts of terrain. Given the world they lived in, that was more important than learning how to joyride in an automobile. Although all those pictures he saw of Ferraris and Lamborghinis and a particular DeLorean -

"Surrender!"

Jon's head jerked toward the noise. Blastarr! What was he doing there?

The biodread didn't wait. He fired into the crawler, knocking the occupants to the ground. He couldn't help! He was too far away. The blaster's power had drained. There was nothing he could do to stop the biodread. The crawler kept rolling until it slammed into another rocky cliff wall. One of the men jumped back into the driver's seat and grabbed the gun, trying to aim at Blastarr.

"This is Jack! Come in! Come in, this is Jack! Machines are here! There are Machines coming your way! This is –"

Blastarr fired again, shooting the man out of the cab and onto the ground. Neither man moved.

From a distance, Jon could hear a voice over the radio. _"Can you read me, Jack? Jack, come in. Over. Oasis to Jack. Come in. Can you hear me?"_

Jon craned his neck to get a better look at Blastarr. The biodread barely acknowledged the two men he'd gunned down. "Blastarr to Lord Dread. Two organics terminated. Transmission detected. Source vector eight-zero-six. Power's original location was nine-two-seven."

Jon could just make out Dread's response. _"It has been hours since Soaron shot down Power. He may have moved. Lock on and track source of newest transmission. It could be Power. I will send backup."_

Blastarr was being ordered to go to Jennifer's position!

"No need," Blastarr said arrogantly as he sped away.

Jon waited mere moments before Blastarr was out of sight. He dragged himself upright. He had to get down to that crawler and head back the way the crawler came. Blastarr would undoubtedly make a beeline for his target, but he'd have to traverse untraveled ground and avoid all sorts of pitfalls. It would slow him down. If Jon could follow the crawler's path back before any winds blew away the tram tracks, he might be able to beat Blastarr there or at the very least, get there right after him.

He dragged himself away from the outcropping and carefully began to slide down the side of the rise. He kept himself from free-falling by using his hands to crawl down certain areas. Once he reached the bottom, he forced himself to stand. His leg was hurting badly. He practically hopped over to the crawler and hauled himself into the driver's seat.

Jon cursed under his breath. With his right leg in a splint, he couldn't use it to control the foot controls of the crawler. This particular vehicle had dual foot controls for each process, and he couldn't use both feet. Driving one-footed wasn't going to work. He looked inside the back of the crawler and found a metal rod – that would work! He sat down as best he could, pressed his left foot on the clutch and with his right hand, pressed the metal rod on the accelerator. He would be lucky if this contraption could run twenty miles per hour, maybe thirty, but there was no way he was going to let Jennifer face off with Blastarr alone, not with only reserve power in her suit.

He took a last glance at the bodies of the men who had driven out there. He'd tell the people at the water station – Oasis - where to find them, but he didn't have the time or the strength to try to manhandle them into the crawler. Blastarr was on the prowl, and he had to get to Oasis as fast as he could.


	22. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 5

**Volcania**

No Need? Dread hoped Blastarr had not underestimated Power's resources. Even after a crash, Jonathan Power could prove resourceful. In any case, there would be more organics for Blastarr to deal with at the coordinates. One could have the information they sought.

"You seem tense, Dread," Overmind's voice spoke lowly. "Soaron's communication capabilities will be restored soon."

"Yes. Blastarr has located the source of the local transmission. Power went down in that area. It is logical to believe he will seek help from a nearby settlement."

There was a pause, then Overmind suggested, "Perhaps Blastarr should wait for Soaron. Two biodreads would –"

"No, there is no time," Dread argued. "Power must be found. Soaron may join Blastarr once his regeneration is complete."

Again, Overmind paused. "Logical. What of your investigation into Overunit Grieg?"

Did nothing escape Overmind's attention? Sometimes, Dread wished for privacy. "He unknowingly gave me disinformation," Dread complained.

"According to his transmission, his information was incomplete."

"True," Dread had to admit. Grieg could only guess at what information he found, but the information had been in error. Had someone placed it there on purpose to mislead them? "We must determine the source of the information leaks. It must be coming from inside Volcania given that no trace can be found on any outside server into our databanks. This organic, Circuit, has ties to the southwest where we have very little influence at the moment. There may be a connection."

"Do you suspect Overunit Grieg?"

"No," Dread informed him. "He is a loyal soldier and has proven his loyalty many times. He reported the information he had and determined a plausible theory from the information. It doesn't matter. I have other concerns. Many of our ranking soldiers do not think as independently as I would like. There needs to be a change in their training. And certain ones, Grieg included, spend too much time in places like Tech City. It may be detrimental to their concentration processes. Perhaps we should curtail their time there."

"Do you think that wise? We have discovered vital information from our sources at places like Tech City even though there is a risk of our classified information being mentioned to the enemy by soldiers who do not think as independently as we like," Overmind surmised. "Some overunits have learned of Resistance tactical plans and reported them to us by visiting such areas friendly to the organics. If you suddenly remove individuals commonly known to frequent such locations, would that not alert the Resistance? That could alter their tactical habits should such a bold move occur."

Dread hadn't thought of that, but Overmind was correct. Any change in routine would be extremely noticeable – not only by the Resistance but also by anyone who may not be quite as loyal to Dread as they pretend.

"You are correct, Overmind. As always. We will bide our time and keep searching for the source of the information leak. Perhaps the truth will reveal itself in some unknown manner."

**Oasis**

Again, Arvin quieted everyone in the main hall by hitting the gavel on the table. Gaelen sat in front of him, his eyes not looking at anyone but only occasionally glancing at Corporal Chase.

"Gaelen," Arvin said quietly, "Do you confirm your nephew's story? Is this the woman you both saw that night?"

Gaelen looked at her again. He paused, as if assessing her. "Yes, she was there."

"Is she the one responsible?"

Gaelen shrugged. "Who can say? An overunit was in charge that night, and this one was no overunit. Of that, I'm certain. I'd met too many overunits when I was captured. One look in this one's eyes, and you could see she wasn't heartless. She was a child spouting slogans. I heard the younger ones learning them when I was captured. The older ones would say the first part, the younger ones would answer in unison. They're conditioned to say those words without thinking or wondering what they're about. That look in her eyes, she couldn't have known what was going to happen. No one could have. To judge her now, in these times, who knows?"

Arvin listened carefully. He had been right. More and more, he was convinced that the corporal was not the typical Dread Youth variety. "You were captured and heard things while you were their prisoner. To your knowledge, was it the radio that brought the Dread soldiers to Sand Town or was there another reason?"

Gaelen looked down. "Mostly, they wanted the radio. They said that's all they wanted. After I was captured, I heard them say things about settlements uniting and using radios to coordinate their actions or alert other settlements about surprise attacks. They didn't want that to happen. That's all they said they wanted. They didn't care about small settlements or the people there. They just wanted the radio."

Arvin's suspicions were confirmed moment by moment with each sentence of the testimony. For years, he'd suspected that something particular happened during those days leading up to the Sand Town massacre, and now he had few doubts. He'd let events unfold on their own, but that didn't mean he wouldn't find out more.

"Were you taken directly to a slave mine after you were captured?"

Arvin shrugged. "No. I was questioned. They were going to send me to the slave mines, but they changed their minds."

Arvin saw Corporal Chase frown at that comment. Something Gaelen said seemed wrong to her?

Another confirmation of suspicions in Arvin's mind.

"Why did they change their minds?" Arvin asked, thinking that might be the problem.

"They were overunits. Their reasons are their own…" Gaelen's voice trailed off.

Arvin glanced at Jennifer again. No, that wasn't what made the lady frown. "I thought you had escaped from them," Arvin reminded him.

Gaelen looked at Arvin, a sudden fear and shame reflecting in his eyes. "I did, in a way," Gaelen admitted.

Arvin tried a different tact. "You knew the Machines were coming to Sand Town?"

"I knew," was the answer.

"Do you know how they found out about the radio? According to Randall's testimony, your brother didn't mention that he was in Sand Town when he spoke to others and only a very few knew where the radio was. Tracking radio locations wasn't easy since they used antiquated technology." He didn't say that Randall's testimony stated that only he, Gaelen and his father knew of the radio.

Gaelen sat there, staring at Arvin. "I'm sure they have their ways."

"What does it matter?" Randall asked. "He got away and came home to us. Isn't that what's important?"

"Everything about that night is important," Arvin said calmly. Suddenly, Arvin realized that the entire truth wouldn't be told that day. There was more to the story than even he had realized. Perhaps the truth would come from another source.

He turned to the defendant. "Jennifer Chase, you've heard what's been said. What do you say in your defense?"

Arvin suspected he knew what she would say first, but he wondered if she knew what she would say first.

**Soaron's Regeneration Site**

"_Soaron,"_ Overmind's voice sounded in Soaron's audio sensors.

"Yes, my lord?"

"_Follow Blastarr as soon as possible. Do whatever is necessary to claim the data before him and bring it to me. This information was taken by means we cannot discover, and we must find the source. I do not trust Lord Dread in this matter. He seems somewhat distracted by recent problems."_

Ah, Overmind wished to best Dread in some way and find the thief before Dread did. "Understood, my lord. My regeneration should reach a sufficient percentage in an hour for me to sustain flight. I will follow the moment I am able."

"_Well done, my son,"_ Overmind praised.

Soaron looked at his mending limbs. He'd already be there if Blastarr hadn't ripped off his leg. How he looked forward to ripping off Blastarr's leg…

**Oasis: Main Hall**

What could she say? How could she explain?

Jennifer just opened her mouth and let the words come out. In a choked voice full of emotion, she said, "It's true. I was in the Dread Youth. And I was in Sand Town."

"You see? She admits it!" Randall yelled.

Arvin used the gavel again against the table. "Silence! This is a human being. She'll have her say before we judge her!"

"She's Dread Youth!" Randall tried again. "They're all killers! They should all be executed."

"Then we would be no better than them," Arvin argued.

"They're all the same!" Randall shouted. He stood, but Gaelen grabbed him by the arm. "Randall, they're not all the same! She's not what you think! She's the one who saved our lives that night!"

Silence fell on the main hall.

Arvin stood. "Gaelen? Is there something you'd like to add to your testimony?"

Gaelen released a stunned Randall. "That night, when we sneaked out of the building we were hiding in, we stayed in the shadows and tried to keep still until there were no biomechs around. Then, we worked our way to the edge of the settlement. We had no choice but to run. We reached the edge of the settlement, and there was one more building we had to run to before we could get far enough into the shadows to escape into the desert. I turned, and there were two biomechs heading in our direction. They would see us when we moved, and then this woman looked directly at us. I remember because of her eyes. They weren't killer eyes. I saw them in the firelight as clearly as I'm seeing them now. She called out to the biomechs and kept them talking. I looked back one last time before we ran out of sight, and she was still watching after us. If she hadn't stopped those biomechs, we'd be dead or prisoners or digitized. If that overunit had found out… she risked a lot to save us that night, Randall. I didn't realize how much… what they do to those young people in the Dread Youth until I was captured… I saw some when I was interrogated… I wasn't as brave as she was…"

He'd been interrogated? Things started to make a perverse sense to Jennifer at that moment, and she knew what she had to do – what she had to say.

But Gaelen and Randall were the two running away that night? She hadn't been expecting that.

Gaelen couldn't go on. Randall sat down and stared at his uncle then at Corporal Chase. Maybe some of Randall's anger would yield to logic, but he was a boy. That was doubtful. Jennifer didn't expect him to ever forgive her. She didn't have the right to ask.

"Randall," Gaelen sat down next to his nephew, "you have to understand what a Dread Youth is and how they're treated before you can understand what truly happened that night at Sand Town. Let her speak."

"Corporal Chase?" Arvin nodded towards her. "What do you have to say for yourself? Before that, I would ask you to tell us about the Dread Youth as well as what happened at Sand Town."

What could she say? How could she explain?

"I was taken to be in the Dread Youth, almost before I can remember. Dread took children of all ages to train for his own personal army. He stole them, killed parents to get them, had those loyal to the Machine hand their children over to him. I don't know my own history, just the lies I've been told and what I think I remember." She looked at the people gathered in the room. How could she tell them of what was ripped away from her? Of what Dread took away from all of them to create his army of emotionless human robots?

"From the moment we were taken, no matter our age, we were trained. From the moment we woke in the morning until we went to bed, our time was regimented. There was no deviation. Every day was the exact same thing. We were taught the slogans and the litanies. We were taught practical sciences and maths, electronics, engineering and computers, but no history or literature or philosophy. That would have taught us to think independently, and Dread couldn't have that. His power had to be absolute, and that meant no one was allowed to question him. There were those who did, and they disappeared. I think some were digitized. Others may have been sent to the slave mines, only we didn't know the mines existed then. I have no doubt others were executed. There could be no dissension against the Machine. We were to follow our orders without question or face deadly consequences, but the idea that anyone wouldn't follow orders without question was unthinkable. It wasn't done. We did as we were told because we didn't know we could do anything else."

She looked out at the group. She saw the looks on their faces – they didn't know anything about the Dread Youth. It was like her early days with the team when she started telling them. They had been shocked and horrified. She saw the look in some of the faces in the gallery. They'd heard rumors, but they had never known there was truth behind them. "I grew up in Volcania. I didn't know life was supposed to be different. I didn't know there were supposed to be lakes and forests and blue skies or… even something as simple as blue butterflies. Everything I'd ever known was gray and metal. I thought everyone lived like I did. I spent my childhood in classrooms and training sessions. I spent my youth in leadership classes because I had been selected to be in the leadership from a young age. Our lives were mapped out for us; our behaviors were dictated to us."

She paused for a moment, not knowing what to say next.

"Throughout our lives, we were always told that those who lived in the wastelands were animals, that those who opposed Lord Dread had to be punished and cleansed, but never how. The litanies would state that over and over again. As a child, I took what was told to me as the truth. I didn't know to question what I was told. I didn't know I was supposed to. Complete obedience to the Machine was expected or you were removed and never seen again. That was a terrifying thought to us." She could feel the tears threatening to fall. She had to hold it together just a little longer. "It means we had disappointed the Machine and that we were condemned in some way for our defiance."

There was so much more, but she only had moments to try to get them to understand why her behavior that night, although unforgiveable to her, was partly the result of years of conditioning. "There's something you have to understand. That was all I knew. I never had a family." She couldn't stop the tears. "The Dread Youth was my family. It was my whole world. There was nothing else. I never knew about having parents or friends. No feelings or love. I knew nothing about being human. I served the Machine, and I was so proud to be Youth Leader Chase. And I knew all my lessons and I knew my destiny as part of the New Order, but there's something else you have to understand." Then, she had to make them understand. They had to know the truth. She felt the tears running down her face, and she didn't stop them. "That night _everything_ that I knew - it fell apart into the lie that it is. I wanted to shout out. I wanted to stop them. If I could have told you that I didn't know... I didn't realize what was going to happen. We didn't know that people were killed and entire towns were torched! They never told us that. But that night I did, I saw the true meaning of the slogans and the uniform that I was wearing." No, the whole truth was hidden under lies and slogans and litanies. For days before Sand Town, she saw her whole world fall apart into the false charade Dread had built. She took a deep breath and tried to steady her voice. "When I realized it was all a lie, that my life was a lie, that I had hurt others but I didn't know that it was going to happen, I escaped."

"Wait," Arvin held up a hand. "You broke through the conditioning?"

"Conditioning?" Randall asked.

"They're brainwashed and conditioned from childhood," Arvin explained. "Like machines, they're programmed what to think and what to say, and given the source of the conditioning technique, breaking it should be impossible."

Jennifer nodded her head. "I saw things happen in the few days before Sand Town that made me question everything I'd been taught, but I kept thinking that maybe I was wrong. Maybe what I had seen and heard was a misunderstanding. Then I was sent to Sand Town for some reason I didn't understand. There were other things going on that I didn't know about. Then I saw what they did there. I saw them destroy everything. I couldn't stop what happened. I wanted to; I wanted to shoot down all the biomechs. I wanted to stop them, but there was nothing I could do. They would have shot me down and kept on destroying the town. I found out what their plans were for me, and when we returned to Volcania, I was able to escape."

Arvin sat back and folded his hands together. "A youth leader… escaping Volcania without being noticed, getting past the security protocols, avoiding the patrols, knowing they'd think you were a traitor if you were caught – it must have been difficult."

Again, Jennifer nodded. "An opportunity presented itself for me to escape. I did, and I didn't look back. I never once thought of going back. I'd rather have died in the wastelands than ever go back."

Arvin leaned forward. "And a Dread Youth couldn't have asked for help from anyone in any town…" he mused aloud. "You were alone, weren't you? Some type of self-imposed penance?"

"I couldn't stop what happened at Sand Town, no matter how much I wanted to. I didn't deserve anyone's forgiveness or help. I didn't have the right to ask. I'd done something too horrible to ever be forgiven for. I went off on my own, and I was ready to accept whatever punishment was coming to me. I started a journey," she said, but that wasn't quite the right word. No, it wasn't a journey. She didn't know what to call it. "It later led me to Captain Power, and he has taught me what it is to be human. Things that I never knew. Things I had no idea of. If I could go back and change that night, I would, but I can't and I try every day of my life to make up for it."

Randall stood up quickly, knocking his chair over in the process. "So your bad childhood is supposed to excuse you for murdering my parents? Don't you see what she's doing? She's trying to trick us with her words and her lies!"

"Randall!" Gaelen moved in-between Randall and Jennifer. "Please, stop. You don't understand what's been said here today. No, her childhood does not excuse her for what she did at Sand Town, but she didn't know what was going to happen. She's not the one who brought the Machines there. She was just another tool that they used. And this girl's blood can't bring back the dead! Please! Stop!"

_Please! Stop!_

She knew. Gaelen just confirmed what Jennifer thought. She had heard that word stated that way once before. That day, when she followed Colville to see what would happen to her, she had heard the man in the Room being interrogated. She looked in the window and saw a sight she had seen before – an interrogation. The prisoner was fastened with a headpiece, his eyes covered as his body was tortured, as pain signals were delivered into his brain by the device.

"_Please, please…"_

"_Speak, animal," the overunit commanded. "Tell us the information and we will be lenient."_

"_Stop, please stop," the prisoner begged again._

_Jennifer watched, listened. _

"_Please, I'll tell you! The radio's in Sand Town. Please, stop…"_

"_Where is Sand Town?"_

_The prisoner forced himself not to answer._

"_No matter. Very good, organic," the overunit praised him. "For your confession, you will be released. The Machine is forgiving to those who do not oppose it."_

_Jennifer ducked down so no one inside the room could see her watching outside. She heard the overunit and a medical technician talking. "Implant a homing device in this organic. We'll follow him to this Sand Town. Lord Dread has assigned a special team to deal with them."_

"_Special, Overunit?"_

"_Lord Dread has important plans for this particular group but they must be tested," the overunit answered. _

Tested. Why? What was the test? From what Arvin had intimated, the radio meant something more to Dread than Jennifer had ever realized at the time. Why was that time those years ago so important? There had been organized resistances to Dread for years. What had changed the playing field that year?

"Randall, just please, stop. Other things happened that brought about the destruction of Sand Town. This woman isn't the one who led them there."

Arvin leaned forward. "Gaelen, is it your testimony that she is not to blame?"

Gaelen faced the tribunal. "Does she share the responsibility? There are many who do, that overunit, those biomechs, even Dread himself. All of them. Is she guilty for what happened?" Gaelen shook his head. "No. She didn't send them to Sand Town, and she risked her life for two strangers she saw running into the night. If only I had been that brave."

Arvin banged the gavel on the table and waited for silence. "People, you've heard the testimony –"

"Arvin!" a man rushed into the main hall. "Jack and Martin are dead. Their remote biosensors flatlined. Jack called in that machines are on their way. Sensors show it's a biodread warlord!"

Warlord? Soaron!

Jennifer hurried to the man. "Did they find Captain Power?"

The man shrugged. "I don't know. Jack didn't say before he was cut off. That must be when he was killed."

Jennifer saw these townsfolk through a soldier's eyes. None of them were soldiers. They wouldn't stand a chance against Soaron.

Arvin didn't waste any time. "All non-combatants evacuate at once. Get to the ruins. Everyone else prepare to defend Oasis."

"Wait!" Randall protested as everyone filed out of the main hall. "What about her? The tribunal isn't over yet. We've got to pass sentence. Don't you know that she's the one who brought the Machines here? She's guilty."

"You still believe that, Randall?" Arvin asked him. "Someone who had no idea that the Machines were evil, who risked her life to help you and Gaelen escape Sand Town, who was willing to submit herself to a trial by strangers and agree to our decision to save the life of another? Do you honestly think she's guilty of murder? Is that the way you view her actions at Sand Town?"

"She said she did those things," Randall said again.

"That she did, but nothing happened the way it usually happened at Sand Town. The rules were changed, people weren't told," Arvin stated as he handed Gaelen his gun. "It's your judgment, Gaelen. You know what _really_ happened, how it happened, so you determine what happens to her."

Gaelen took the gun but held it down by his side.

"Do it, Uncle," Randall almost begged.

Gaelen just shook his head. "Randall, stop. Please, just stop."

Jennifer knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt. "It was you, wasn't it? That day, in the Room?"

Gaelen slightly nodded his head. "You knew, didn't you? You didn't say anything about it."

"There was nothing you could have done other than what you did to stay alive," she told him. "And saying anything about it – what good would it do now?"

"It could have spared you a trial."

Jennifer shook her head. "No, it wouldn't. I was there, and I did things I will never forgive myself for. I have to pay for what I've done."

Randall was confused by their words. "Uncle Gaelen, what is it?"

Jennifer didn't think she should be privy to that conversation. "Look, I can help. I know how to fight biodreads. Let me."

Without hesitation, Gaelen nodded and Jennifer ran out. She had to stop Soaron before he hurt anyone.

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

"Uncle Gaelen, you can't let her get away. She's got to pay for what she did."

"No, Randall," Gaelen said. "She's not the guilty one. I am." He forced his nephew to face him. "She knows the full story, but she didn't say anything during the trial because she was prepared to take full responsibility and let me keep my secret." Gaelen took a deep breath. "I had been captured by the soldiers and taken to Volcania. I was tortured until I told them that the radio was in Sand Town. Randall, your father was trying to determine the state of the Resistance against Dread and if we could join in any way. That must have been what Dread knew only he didn't know where the radio was. They let me go, but they tracked me. They knew I'd go right back home and try to hide the radio in a safer place."

"They followed you?" Randall asked, not believing that Gaelen could have betrayed them.

"I didn't know then, but I know now. I found the tracking device the next day and destroyed it. I didn't want them tracking us further."

"She –"

"She didn't know, Randall," Gaelen told him again. "While I was in Volcania, I found out about the Dread Youth, who they were, how they were trained. Yes, she was there that night, but she behaved as she had been conditioned to do. The fact that she broke through that conditioning and helped the two of us to escape – you have no idea the miracle that is. She has punished herself for what she did, and she was willing to take the blame and let us punish her for what I did. That overunit? She ordered the destruction of our town and enjoyed what she did. She should be executed, but Jennifer Chase is not one of them. She didn't know what was going to happen that night. To kill her now – you would have innocent blood on your hands because she is not the one who brought the Machines to Sand Town. I was."


	23. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 6

**Desert Road**

Jon pressed down harder on the accelerator. There was no way he could get to Oasis before Blastarr. He didn't know how well defended Oasis was, but he knew Jennifer would fight Blastarr with whatever power she had left in her suit, and he knew there wasn't much. He had to get to Oasis fast. The idea of Jennifer fighting Blastarr by herself scared him.

He checked the distance he'd already traveled – Jennifer had walked at least that far? There was no food, no flowing water, few cactuses to get water from… did she make it Oasis safely?

She had to. The crawler had arrived. She had to have reached Oasis in one piece.

Jon kept telling himself that.

She had made it there, but what condition was she in? She'd been knocked unconscious when the bike crashed. All that walking, exposed to the dim sun, Blastarr possibly already at Oasis…

He performed an action he had only heard of in a movie once – he put the pedal to the metal and let the engine roar!

**Oasis**

Jennifer ran outside – directly into Blastarr's sights!

She dove behind a ruined wall. "Blastarr?" she muttered. "Where did he come from?" She was not expecting that biodread to be in the area. It also meant if Soaron finished regenerating any time soon, he'd join Blastarr and there was no way Oasis would survive.

Without another thought, Jennifer rushed out, placed her fist on the actibadge and shouted, "Power on." Immediately, her armor was in place and she was ready to take on a biodread.

"Power level: 10% of maximum and dropping. Possible systems disruption. Recharge immediately," the suit's computer warned her.

Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. "Well, it'll have to do," she said to herself as she charged out into the middle of the settlement.

She joined the main defensive line as they fired their blasters at Blastarr, having absolutely no effect against the enraged biodread. Blastarr shot his weapon in a straight line across the front line of defenders, destroying walls, busting doors, forcing everyone to jump away to avoid the shots. Jennifer tucked and rolled and maneuvered behind a stone wall. She rushed out again and tossed her throwing stars directly at his power plate. She forced him to focus on her and chase her down, leaving the townsfolk alone. She took off, ran as quickly as she could away from the main buildings, giving the others a clear shot at Blastarr. She stopped, threw more stars at him. The biodread solidified his shield, blocked every star that Jennifer threw at him.

"AARRGGHH!" the biodread screamed as he advanced on another man near her, a man with a grenade launcher. Without remorse, the robot shot him down and kept on toward Jennifer.

"Blast it!" she muttered.

She dove for the grenade launcher and pointed it directly at Blastarr. One quick, unaimed shot – it hit him too high on the chest. He returned fire, shot Jennifer directly in the mid-section. The force of the blast threw her back into some debris. She blacked out, hearing the sound of the computer warn, "Total system failure."

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jennifer was down!

She wasn't moving.

Blastarr advanced menacingly, the ground shaking as he stalked towards her. Jon slammed on the brakes, stood as best he could, and grabbed the mounted gun in the crawler -

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jennifer came to and saw Blastarr stomping towards her.

"One of Power's team," Blastarr said smugly. "Where is your captain, and where is the data tape you stole from my lord?"

Jennifer just shook her head. Ever muscle she had was screaming at her. "You've got to have a short circuit if you think I'm going to tell you anything."

"Speak or die!" Blastarr ordered, pointing his primary weapon at her.

Gaelen ran out of the main hall. "No!" he shouted as he fired Arvin's weapon repeatedly at Blastarr.

"Insolent," the biodread mumbled as he almost absent-mindedly shot Gaelen down in the street. Jennifer watched in horror as Randall ran out of the main hall and hurried to Gaelen's side. He was trying to protect his uncle's body…

Blastarr turned back to Jennifer, his gun aimed point blank at her. "Give me that data tape!"

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jon pointed the mounted gun directly at Blastarr and fired full force!

The blast hit the biodread square in the middle, knocking him over.

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

"Pilot!"

Jennifer could see Jon standing in the crawler, one hand securely on the gun, the other waving at her with a thumbs-up.

Blastarr hauled himself up again, growling in anger.

"Oh, Blastarr is in for it now," she muttered. She forced herself to stand, ignoring her sore stomach muscles, and grabbed up the grenade launcher. She had a clear shot at his power plate and fired at it. Again and again, she hit the center of the biodread knocking him down. The light in his power plates went out, putting the robot into regeneration mode. What did it take to destroy that robot? Even the explosion at Haven had no effect. Jennifer dropped the grenade launcher, every muscle she had telling her they'd had enough, thank you, will you please rest now? She looked over at Jon. He was smiling proudly at her.

They'd made it out alive, but not everyone in Oasis did.

Jennifer hurried as best she could over to Gaelen. Randall sat there, crying over his uncle's body. Jennifer checked Gaelen's pulse, knowing that there would be no heartbeat.

Randall looked at her, tears in his eyes. "He was the one who told them about the radio. They tortured him, and he told them. They lied when they said all they wanted was the radio. He said you knew, but you didn't say that he was the one who brought the Machines to Sand Town in the tribunal. Why?"

Jennifer shrugged. "What good would it have done? He was tortured, Randall. Dread's interrogators know how to hurt people in ways you've never dreamed of before. They don't give prisoners a choice. It's only a matter of time before people answer them."

Randall frowned. "But you were taking the blame for what Uncle Gaelen did and what that overunit did. The tribunal would have stopped if you had told us that it was him."

"No, it wouldn't have, Randall. I'm guilty of a lot of things. I did them, and I've confessed to them all. The only defense I have is that before Sand Town, I didn't know what I was doing was wrong. I'd give my life to undo what happened at Sand Town if it could bring everyone back, but I can't. Now I try to make up for all the wrong I did. I've lived with my own guilt every day since then, and so has your uncle. They had other reasons for attacking Sand Town, but I don't know what they were. Gaelen didn't know they set him up and followed him. It wasn't his fault. I wasn't going to rub salt in a wound."

Maybe Randall understood, maybe he didn't, but he did say, "Uncle Gaelen told me the truth because he didn't want me to have your innocent blood on my hands."

"I'm not innocent," Jennifer told him.

"You're innocent of what I thought you did."

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jon used the metal rod as a crutch and limped over to where Jennifer was kneeling by a fallen man. She was all right. He could tell she was hurting – being knocked out twice and knocked down by Blastarr as well as taking a very long walk through the desert didn't help any. Still, if he had any doubts, that smile she had on her face when she saw him with the crawler dispelled them.

She had survived Blastarr. How many times had she survived nearly impossible odds?

He reached her, placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him. He could see how tired she was. It'd been a rough day. "You okay?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

"What do we do now?" a man approached them.

Jennifer stood. Jon could hear her groan. She wasn't hurt more than she was letting on again, was she? That was an old behavior he didn't want to see repeated. "Captain, this is Arvin. He's in charge here."

The two men shook hands, but Arvin looked anything but welcoming. "Arvin."

"You'll have to leave," Jennifer told him. "Dread will send others. I was expecting Soaron to be the one attacking, not Blastarr. He's still out there and may be here soon. The captain and I can help you, but you'll have to gather your people quickly."

Arvin looked around at the town. "I knew it was too good to be true. We were only safe here for a little while." Then, he turned back to Jennifer. "Look, about the tribunal, I didn't know that Gaelen was the one who betrayed Sand Town, but you didn't say that it was him. I always knew there was more to the story, but I guessed his involvement when I heard what was said. Then when I learned about the radio, I knew why Sand Town was targeted. After everything, you still fought to save us. I don't –"

"Let's just say it's a debt been paid," Jennifer said quickly.

Arvin nodded, then motioned for a few of the men to help with Gaelen's body. In a loud voice, he said, "Everyone! Pack up quickly. We have to leave before more machines show up."

As everyone around them bustled toward their homes to gather their things, Jon tapped Jennifer on the shoulder. "Tribunal? What was going on here?"

**Abandoned Oasis: Some Time Later**

"Lord Overmind, I am approaching the coordinates now," Soaron reported to Overmind as he flew quickly toward the town.

"_What reports do we have of the settlement?"_ Overmind asked.

"All sensors indicate no human activity."

There was silence, then _"Either Blastarr has removed all organics and has the data tape, or he has failed, the people have fled and the data tape as well. What news of Power?"_

"None, my lord." The town was immediately in front of him. Soaron slowed his flight and prepared to land.

"_Report what you discover as soon as it is safe to do so."_

"Confirmed, my lord." Knowing Blastarr, that ground crawler probably destroyed any chance they had of capturing Power. His capabilities were certainly lacking compared to the fully mechanical machines.

A quick fly-by showed that there was no one in the town. Not a single person. However, in the center of the quad was a fallen Blastarr. Soaron was going to enjoy this.

He landed mere feet away from his mechanical nemesis.

"Soaron," Blastarr said disgustingly.

"So good to see you again, scrapheap," Soaron taunted him.

Suddenly, he wondered how long it would take Blastarr to regenerate if he were to rip the ground-crawler's leg off…

**Ruins**

The ruins were only a resting spot, allowing the townspeople to bury Gaelen and decide which direction they wanted to go. Even with all the help Jon and Jennifer had tried to give them, the Oasis group was intensely independent. Still, they weren't going to turn down free advice or warnings that Resistance fighters could give them. It was decided – they would stay at the ruins until morning, retrieve Jack and Martin's bodies for burial and then strike out to the west for a town about twenty miles away called Parmen, another water station capable of absorbing Oasis' population.

Jon had tried to contact the Power Base on the Oasis radio, but it had a limited range. They were too far away to reach Mentor, and the rest of the team was probably still on their own mission. Plus, that storm had slowed but was still heading in their direction. It was causing a lot of electrical interference. There was no way to contact Mentor from the ruins. He and Jennifer would have to get back to the sky bike and try to repair that radio to contact the base, but the sky bike was miles away. That was going to be a hard walk for the two of them even with the townspeople giving them a lift back close to the crash site. Despite everyone's appreciation at their fighting Blastarr and stopping him, despite the friendliness they had been shown after the fact, it was still _after the fact_.

"_Tribunal? What was going on here?"_

Jennifer had told him, but he could tell it wasn't the whole story. It was a less than detailed version, but he could read between the lines.

They had put Jennifer on trial for Sand Town, and they had no idea what had happened to her in those days leading up to the destruction. They didn't know everything she witnessed, how all the lies had begun to line up and then absolutely fell apart into the deceptions that they were. It was Sand Town that brought her to her humanity, that showed her the truth and gave her the courage to risk everything to escape. Jon wanted to get her away from them. He couldn't show his feelings – not then. He couldn't let the people in Oasis think that there was any anger or animosity, not since they were depending on them to get them closer to their crash site. He knew that they were just like all the others - they were just trying to survive and they wanted to get even with anyone they thought responsible for their lot in life. He'd seen that time and again, but all Jon could really think about was that these people had Jennifer's life in their hands and that she willingly agreed to undergo a tribunal just to get help to him. Despite everything she had told them, it wasn't until _after_ she risked her life for them that anyone really believed she was telling the truth. How could they not have looked into her eyes and seen the regret? How could they not understand the life-threatening courage it took to escape the Dread Youth? Did they think that walking out of Volcania was as easy as a moonlight stroll?

Yes, the people were being polite and nice and giving. They had given them some food and water and tended to their wounds before they left Oasis, but Jon had this gut feeling that he just wanted to get as much distance between the townspeople and Jennifer as he possibly could.

He looked down at his leg. A medic had redressed the wound and re-splinted it, commenting on the good job Jennifer had done securing the leg in the first place. Jon had agreed. Jennifer knew how to be a medic. It had been part of her Dread Youth training, but he didn't mention that. He didn't think that the townspeople would be willing to grasp the irony that a group created to help destroy the human race actually had the knowledge and expertise to help them, even after Jennifer's testimony.

He didn't say anything untoward. He schooled his features and remained stoic. He stood beside Jennifer at Gaelen's funeral and refused to leave her side. He let that be his statement of his opinion of her.

One by one, the townsfolk paid their respects to Gaelen. None of them knew that he had been the one to betray Sand Town. Jennifer asked Arvin and Randall to keep it quiet if no one else picked up on the verbal clues brought out in the tribunal. It wouldn't help anyone and could only stir up bad feelings. Once again, Jon's opinion of her raised up a few notches. She'd take the brunt of the responsibility of what happened so Gaelen could rest in relative peace and be remembered with honor.

Clegg stood beside Randall and placed his hand on his shoulder. "If there's anything you need…"

"Thanks, Clegg," Randall answered as his friend walked away.

Randall glanced at Jennifer. Again, Jon wondered how Randall had recognized her after all those years. He'd been the first to accuse her of killing everyone at Sand Town. "I just want to say I'm sorry," he said quickly. I really didn't know all the facts."

"None of us did," Jennifer told him. "And we both have things to be sorry for, Randall. We're going to bury them here, all right?"

Jon knew she wouldn't. She would carry Sand Town with her the rest of her life, but something else had happened there that he didn't know about. Hopefully, she would tell Jon.

**Later that night**

They set up the temporary camp that night at the ruins. The wounded needed some rest; morning was only a few hours away, so there was no point going on any further. The plan was to leave before dawn, to try to get as much distance between the settlers and the biodreads as possible. With any luck, Dread would have already called them back or they needed to recharge their power cells after both had been beaten that day.

Jon sat on a flat boulder near the back of the ruins, away from everyone and watched the goings-on. Everyone had treated him like some sort of celebrity after they knocked down Blastarr, but he was noticing some reticence on their part when it came to Jennifer. They seemed to be apologetically polite – if that was the correct term. No one knew how to act around her. She'd risked her life to save them when they were ready to execute her - that was a concept they didn't know how to relate to. Watching her repair some of their weapons, recalibrating them and realigning the sights, acting as if she didn't hold a grudge… Well, Jon did. He understood the settlers' point of view, he did, but this was _Jennifer_ they had endangered.

He had a grudge.

"May I join you?"

Jon looked up to see Arvin standing there. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk with the man who led the tribunal, but Arvin was the leader of the group currently "hosting" their visit. So, he'd be polite. Jennifer was doing that, so could he. She always set a good example.

He pointed to the boulder next to him. "Please."

Arvin sat down, took a breath and looked over the townspeople.

"I'm sorry you had to leave your settlement," Jon told him.

"So am I. So many lost," he muttered. "But it was only a matter of time before Dread found us. We've been helping out resistance groups when we could for some years now. I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate that. It would have been worse if you two hadn't been there." Arvin chuckled. "I've never seen anything like what your corporal did. Fight a biodread? I didn't think that was possible. All they ever do is destroy. To see anyone or anything stand up to one… it's remarkable."

Jon had to agree. "It's what we do. She's had some experience fighting Blastarr in the past, and she won't stand by and watch innocent people get hurt if she can stop it. She cares."

"Ah, I see. Now that makes sense," Arvin commented.

"What makes sense?"

Arvin leaned back a little to try to get more comfortable on the boulder. "Everything she's done since I met her this afternoon. She took the blame that was actually Gaelen's, fought to save people who put her on trial but what first impressed me was that she readily agreed to a tribunal and would abide by our decision if we'd get help to you. Her one concern was getting to you. Even when we knew the Machines were coming, the first question she asked was if they'd found you. You must be very important to her."

Jon let the words echo through his mind. _You must be very important to her_. Maybe, just maybe, what he felt for her was reciprocated? "We're teammates. She knows how important a team is. Any of us would do the same for each other."

Arvin nodded, then he crossed his arms. "Perhaps, but that's not what I saw. I have to admit, if she hadn't confessed she was in the Dread Youth, I wouldn't have ever guessed it. Everything about her personality is completely opposite to everything I've witnessed about them. Dread Youth don't cry. Dread Youth don't care. Dread Youth do not abide anything we say or do."

No, they didn't. "To say she's diametrically opposed to the Dread Youth is an understatement," Jon explained. "There's nothing in her personality or belief system that is remotely Dread Youth. They may have raised her and trained her, but she's not one of them. She was forced to wear the uniform, that's all. She's truly one of the best people I know."

Arvin reached into his pocket and pulled out a pipe. He didn't light it; he just balanced it in his hands. "It sounds like she's just as important to you as you are to her."

Jon's brow furrowed. "Well, yes. We're friends. Have been for –"

"Son, you might be able to fool each other, but you're not fooling anyone else. And I've been around a little too long to be fooled. Even when I was working Intel with the government before Taggart became Dread, I saw a lot of people come and go through his ranks. That one is not like any I've ever seen before. She's not like the other Dread Youth anymore. She's human again. She risks being executed by complete strangers just to get help to you, and you forced yourself to physically do things you shouldn't have done to get to her. I saw the look in your eyes when she got up after being knocked down by that biodread. You didn't know if she was dead or alive once that armor of hers disappeared. Anyone who looks at you two can see it. I'm guessing you two don't?"

Jon was speechless. He didn't think he was the type of person to wear his heart on his sleeve… how many others were seeing what he was feeling? First Jessica Morgan, then Andy Jackson, now Arvin?

"Ah, I'm right, aren't I?" Arvin asked with a self-satisfied grin. "Son, I'm going to give you some advice. You can take it or leave it. Before things got really bad, some of the government number crunchers figured out how long it would take until Dread got his total human annihilation and his metal world. The average view was about twenty years, and it's already been fifteen. There are precious few of us humans left. We're on the eve of our own destruction, and our time might be shorter than we think. Don't leave things unsaid and chances untaken. It's what we don't do that we regret more than the things we do."

Jon unknowingly smiled in response. In an unguarded way, he said, "I know, you're right, but there's too much we have to do. And with a war on –"

"There's always going to be something going on, and there's always something you have to do," Arvin countered. "Drought, flood, sickness, earthquakes, tornadoes, wars, biodreads, even ornery old fools in a town who don't listen when someone tells the truth and threatens everything you have. Don't let life stop you from having a life."

Jon couldn't argue with that advice, but he did change the subject. "How long were all of you at Oasis?"

"Some years," he answered. "But no settlement is permanent thanks to Dread. There's no telling when he'll attack a settlement, but we can set up shop somewhere else. Other resistance groups will find us just like they have before. I guess we were just a water station for about three years before Sand Town happened. Then the survivors showed up – Sand Town was just on the other side of the mountain, did you know that?"

The other side of the mountain? "Uh, no, I didn't know it was that close," Jon told him.

Arvin nodded. "It took days to travel by foot, but the survivors made it to us despite traveling in the summer. A lot of them were farmers so it seemed like a good time to set up a proper settlement and grow crops. We've been fairly safe –"

"Until now," Jon finished. "I need to apologize for that. It was my fault. I didn't take into consideration that Dread would send Blastarr after we shot down Soaron or that Blastarr was even in the area. We needed to get to help, but it cost you your town." He didn't say that he thought Jennifer would be safe once she reached Oasis when the opposite turned out to be the truth. Jon could have sent her to her death.

"Don't apologize. We've had some protection up until now from some interesting sources, but we knew it wouldn't last. Besides, your corporal saved a lot of lives." He got quiet for a moment, but then he observed the obvious. "She's the one who broke through the conditioning. I never believed it was possible, no matter the rumors."

"Rumors?"

"A year or so back, there was a rumor circulating that a Dread Youth raised in the Corps broke training and had been working with a major resistance group, namely yours, against Dread for some time, but I honestly didn't think it was possible. A member of the Corps actually on a major resistance team? The conditioning was designed so that couldn't happen."

Something Arvin said seemed to register with Jon. "You know about the conditioning?"

Arvin nodded. "Get them when they're young, teach them one way and keep them away from any contradictory influences like literature, history – the social sciences. Nothing that would require them to think that they should look closer at what's around them, nothing that taught them to think independently of what they were told. Reward complete obedience. Destroy any that hinted of having a rebellious nature. Allow no personal emotion except devotion for the System. Make the System a religion and tie their entire existence to its teachings. Make them believe they are the ones who bring about a great new world."

"That sounds like I imagined it to be," Jon agreed.

"It's an old form of mental and emotional conditioning used by various dictators over the centuries. Now Dread, he was smart. He found some supposedly infallible conditioning methods, cobbled them together, varied them a bit, found out how to build the perfect soldier. What's remarkable is that not only did your corporal do something she wasn't trained to do, but she did something she was specifically trained _not_ to do. She saw, she reasoned and she thought for herself. How she did that, I can't begin to explain."

"How do you know so much about it?" Jon asked him.

Arvin took a deep breath. "I was a trained psychologist. Worked for the government for a while. I was with the Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI for a year or two. Worked in a joint research operation with the CIA and a few other letters of the now antiquated government alphabet soup. When the wars started, before the Metal Wars began, they wanted a lot of us to find new ways to motivate and train soldiers as well as break the will of prisoners during interrogation. Some of us would be sent into other countries to try to train young recruits to work against their own governments. They wanted us to turn them into double agents or sleeper agents, turn their loyalties." Arvin looked at Jon. "No one ever resisted our interrogation techniques and no one ever broke through our conditioning. Taggart technically stole our research during one of his laboratory takeovers maybe eight or nine years before the Metal Wars actually started. His company bought out the ownership of our lab and got access to all our information. Used it as part of the system he designed to train his Dread Youth only we didn't know it then. He hunted us down and tried to kill us since we were the ones who might be able to unravel the conditioning. We went into hiding. I ended up out here. It wasn't until the first Dread Youth got into the battles that I saw the telltale signs of my own processes in them. In short, Captain, I'm one of the people whose processes, procedures and research invented the techniques that allowed interrogators to get the information they'd need to destroy a place like Sand Town and helped create the Dread Youth like your corporal." He nodded his head toward Jennifer. "In a way, I helped make her into what she became, but she alone became the woman she is today. How she broke through that conditioning, I honestly can't tell you, but I'd love to know. Absolutely every bit of research and evidence and proof said it was foolproof."

She saw the truth for herself. Wouldn't that have been enough for anyone? Jon thought for a moment – others had seen far worse things than Jennifer had yet remained loyal to Dread, but maybe they needed to see events in a certain sequence to break through the conditioning? Hadn't they all gone through the same conditioning? Jon had never wondered that before. Could there be different types of training for the Dread Youth? That was an investigation for another time. "She's one of a kind," Jon agreed.

"So I'm right," Arvin noticed. "She is important to you. That's good. We need more of that in the world."

Jon almost protested but then Arvin handed him a small recorder. "You probably already know most of what she testified to, but I think you should know exactly what was said. This is a recording of the tribunal. You may not know this, but the year Sand Town was destroyed was the year Dread ramped up his attacks on settlements. Sand Town was the first that he changed his usual cleansing procedure on. If you remember the way things were then, resistance groups were independent. There was no working together. Then, there were some rogue resistance groups getting radios to settlements to set up a means of communication and organization with the towns. They were trying to recruit help from people who weren't even fighting Dread directly. It's odd to think it was like that since just about every town these days has radios. Anyway, Dread found out about them and ran some attacks specifically targeting the radios. He wanted to stop the communication. Something else happened, I don't know what, but Dread made some big moves that year."

The memory did seem to come to the fore. There was no unity among the groups, then eventually, radios were showing up all over. Jon thought that people were relearning old technology. He never thought that some of the resistance groups were supplying them. But big moves? What had happened that triggered the change in Dread's tactics?

"Don't be surprised if you didn't know," Arvin explained. "There's a lot going on in the military that only a few know about." He pointed to the recorder. "As far as what you know, if you had any doubts about what she feels about you, maybe you'll find some answers on here. You might find answers to questions you didn't even know you had." Arvin stood and walked off, leaving Jon to consider what he told him.

Their trip to the southwest had certainly proven to be enlightening. Resistance groups working surreptitiously and keeping their actions secret from other groups, stolen processes and procedures… Jon had never once thought exactly how Dread trained the Dread Youth. He'd never considered the various methods that Dread utilized to control every aspect of their lives. Lyman Taggart was not a psychologist. He was an engineer, a programmer, a designer – but to control the minds of thousands? He had started training people before he joined with Overmind, before he made his takeover move. Taggart must have utilized the research of who-knows-how-many scientists to create his human army. How many others had their research stolen? If they could find out the research, could they fight it? Could they free Dread Youth if they could counteract the methods Dread used?

How many people would actually admit to being the founders of the research that helped create the Dread Youth?

Jon thought the somewhat paternal advice was similar to what his own father would have told him. He placed the disk in his pocket and patted it. He would listen to it later.

Wait… did Arvin say that the refugees from Sand Town had come to Oasis in the _summer_?


	24. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 7

**Power Base**

"What a day!" Hawk stretched as he walked into the control room. "I had no idea this mission would take this long! Next time, we take the jump ship."

Scout followed him in. "Next time, don't say there's something wrong with the jump ship just so Jennifer and the captain can take one sky bike. Lie."

"Lie about her jump ship? Jennifer would know. Speaking of those two…" Hawk powered up Mentor. "Mentor, any word from Pilot or the captain?"

"None, Major," the computer image told him. "However, the storm front is still creating a great deal of interference."

"They haven't reported in at all?" Tank asked.

"Not since this morning when we lost contact," Mentor explained. "I am currently receiving an incoming transmission from the town of Bentley. They're requesting help moving some medical supplies to the nearby clinic."

"Think they're okay?" Scout asked Hawk. "Should we go after them?"

"Bentley's medical supplies include penicillin," Hawk told him, "and the clinic's been waiting on it for about a month… no, they should be okay. I hope. Mentor, keep trying to raise them."

Hawk didn't say he was worried, he didn't have to. What he also didn't say is that he didn't even know where they were.

**Ruins**

Jennifer walked over to Jon, holding two mugs of steaming liquid. "No food, they're not unpacking any of the stores, but they did heat up some broth,"

As she handed him one, Jon noticed the dark circles under her eyes. He could hear the fatigue in her voice. The cuts, the bruises, the way she walked that hinted at sore muscles - after everything she'd gone through that day, he was surprised she was still on her feet. She had to be hurt and exhausted. An hour in the regenerator would do them both some good.

He took the mug and moved over, giving her room to sit beside him. "Hey, why don't you try getting some sleep? We've got a few hours before we head out and a long way to go tomorrow… well, later today."

She shook her head. "No, if I fall asleep, I think I'll sleep more than a few hours. I'll wait until we get back to base."

She sat down and took a sip from her mug. "Blastarr may have regenerated by now," she said.

"Soaron too," Jon agreed. "They may be coming after these people unless Dread recalled them."

"I wasn't expecting Blastarr," she told him as she stretched her neck a bit, trying to work out the soreness. "I didn't know he was in the area."

He placed his hand on her neck and felt the knotted up muscles. He pressed down on a few pressure points to help ease the tension and the aches. She tensed up slightly and then relaxed as a particular muscle group loosened up. Jon was happy to see that she didn't pull away from him. "He showed up just as the crawler reached my position. He killed the two men, heard the radio transmission and got Oasis' location. He headed off in that direction. I didn't know if I'd get there in time."

Jennifer was quiet for a moment, then, "How did they avoid Dread's troops all this time?"

Jon hadn't given it any thought, but something Arvin said seemed to explain it. "They weren't a settlement until after the Sand Town people got there. That was when they started growing crops and setting down roots. It seems that Dread doesn't keep much of a military presence in this area or Blastarr and Soaron would have had biomechs to back them up. It'd be easy to miss a water station in the middle of the desert if no one knew to look for it. Besides, no settlement is permanent these days. Arvin did mention something about having some new type of protection, but I don't know what he meant. Maybe he meant the desert."

He looked at her. She could barely keep her eyes open. "Okay, pulling rank again. Get some sleep."

She didn't argue. He guessed she was already half-asleep as it was. She leaned her head against the boulder they were sitting against and didn't move. Jon took the mug from her hands and placed it on the ground. A few hours sleep would do her a world of good.

The rest of the camp was settling down as well. Some were still awake, standing guard. A few of the younger ones and older ones were getting a few hours sleep. He was still angry about what had happened. He'd sent Jennifer to a place he thought she'd be safe, and they were just as dangerous as the biodreads or the desert and could have killed her. How could they –

The recorder.

Jon pulled it out of his pocket. Maybe if he listened to the tribunal, he wouldn't be so angry with these individuals for doing what they did?

He looked around. Jennifer was sound asleep. Everyone around him was too. He pulled an earpiece out of the supply pouch on his belt and placed it in the recorder. He listened to the story of Sand Town, to the information that he didn't know about before.

"_Um, it was summer. I remember because it was hot and we worked in the fields at night…"_

Even Randall testified that Sand Town had happened in the summer. How was that possible? They had found Jennifer in January. She couldn't have survived in the wastelands that long with no survival gear.

"_Randall, do you know what the Dread Youth code of punishment is for finding a radio in a settlement where people are believed to be in opposition to Dread?"_

"_The radio was confiscated and the building was burned to the ground as a punishment to anyone that hides one …."_

Knowing Dread, that would be how he would do it. Make a punishment through a surgical strike to put fear in the hearts of everyone else.

"_Where was your father?"_

"_Hiding in the underground room under our house."_

He'd been hiding in the house? Jon closed his eyes. That was a horrible new burden Jennifer was carrying. She had to order the burning of a house because it was expected, but she didn't know that someone was inside. Even on that day, she wouldn't have ordered the house to be burned if she knew someone was in there. She would have followed procedure and captured him. She couldn't have known about any of it until the tribunal.

"_One look in this one's eyes, and you could see she wasn't heartless. She was a child spouting slogans."_

Her eyes. Even Gaelen could see the true person through Jennifer's eyes. No, she wasn't heartless. Jennifer had a heart bigger than anyone Jon had ever met. She wanted to help everyone. She wanted to help Dread Youth, help them see the truth behind Dread's lies.

Learning that she had risked her life to waylay those two biomechs so two people could escape – and those two turned out to be Randall and Gaelen? Arvin was right. She not only did what she hadn't been trained to do but exactly what she had been trained _not_ to do.

Then, he listened to Jennifer's emotionally fraught testimony. She held nothing back. She told them everything, even things she had never told him or the rest of the team. She stripped all pretense away from her words and let them see her anguish and remorse, how much she wanted to make up for what she had done, how she would give her life to undo what happened that night. She didn't go into all the details about the training of a Dread Youth. There wouldn't have been time.

"_I'd rather have died in the wastelands than ever go back."_

When she had gone into Med Lab One to get the vaccine, when she was held at gunpoint by Cadet Erin, she had told the cadet to kill her because she wasn't going back. There had been more behind it than what would happen to her if she had been taken back as a prisoner.

"_I started a journey. And it later led me to Captain Power, and he has taught me what it is to be human. Things that I never knew."_

Human. When the team met Jennifer, she gave that one word so much more meaning. They honestly had no idea what Dread had done to the Dread Youth. They didn't understand where the loyal fervor came from or why they thought Machines were superior. At one point, they thought the soldiers were just misguided and well-trained. They had no idea that they were being brainwashed and conditioned and stripped of their humanity. She was the one who taught them so much. Everything new that she experienced was like seeing it for the first time themselves. Showing them every skill and talent she possessed almost humbled them given the near machine-like perfection with which she performed any task. It was the realization that Dread was trying to create flesh-and-blood emotionless robots that were completely obedient to him that truly surprised them.

Self-doubt was not a personality aspect ever seen in a Dread Youth, but when they found her, she seemed so uncertain of herself but so certain she wasn't worth helping. They took her to one of Greta Royston's hospitals after they rescued her from the biomechs, and when she woke up, she had no doubt she'd be taken to a prison camp. Her understanding of life outside Volcania was as much lies as everything else Dread had told her. The Resistance didn't have established POW camps for captured Dread Youth. There were the few facilities that housed the few caught in a battle, but they barely had enough resources to feed themselves. There wasn't enough to feed prisoners. Dread had told them so many lies about the survivors in the wastelands. He'd called them animals. They were the ones who opposed the will of the Machine.

When they had that first conversation with Jennifer in the hospital, so much more had been learned than Jon had ever known…

_No guards were posted on the patient. There was no need. She wouldn't have had the strength or endurance to even get off the cot she was lying on, let alone pose any kind of threat. Jon had seen Dread Youth soldiers in battle, but never like this. This woman, this Jennifer Chase, was a complete enigma. How old was she? Twenty perhaps? A little older? Trying to determine the age of any Dread Youth soldier was a guessing game at best. They 'looked' older than they actually were given their uniforms and posture._

_According to Greta Royston, Chase's medical history showed she was previously in excellent condition. Her current medical condition was the result of exposure, lack of food and water, blaster fire and exhaustion, but Greta couldn't determine the amount of time she'd been in the wastelands. Excellent condition – for the first time, Jon considered the state of Dread's medical facilities. At Greta's, there was medical personnel, crude medical equipment, less than completely sanitary conditions – the field hospital had to be very different from the well-stocked medical units the Machine Empire had for its human soldiers. Dread would have the best medical care for his soldiers until… well, until. There were no older human soldiers in the Corps. Perhaps the oldest Jon had ever seen was about his own age. Calling it the Youth Corps… why hadn't Jon ever given the term any thought? What happened to the soldiers as they got older? _

_Greta Royston stood next to the Power Team and said in a low voice, "Fever's down, wound's healing. She's going to make it. I don't know how and I wouldn't have given her any odds when you brought her in. She's definitely a fighter. Now the next problem is yours to solve."_

"_What problem's that?" Hawk asked._

"_What to do with her now. A captured Dread Youth soldier is one thing, but she is a runaway youth leader. Youth leaders don't run away. No Dread Youth does. They would have been hunting her the minute she was reported missing. We don't have a long term place to keep her here, so you guys get to decide where to put her once she's better."_

_Jon looked back and saw Chase's eyes blinking. She was waking up. "Let's see what she has to say," he suggested._

_Greta nodded and walked away to give them a little privacy._

_Jon sat down on the cot next to Chase. "Hello, I don't know if you remember us. I'm Captain Jonathan Power. We found you out in the wastelands."_

_It was her eyes that Jon couldn't look away from. In all the years he'd fought the Dread Youth soldiers, he'd never before seen confusion or regret reflected in their eyes. Chase may have worn the uniform, but she wasn't Dread Youth. At least, Jon hoped she wasn't. If not, then the chance he took bringing her to Greta's could backfire. He might have risked innocent people._

"_I remember." Her voice was dry and cracked. A medic gave her a cup of water with instructions to sip it slowly. "Where am I?"_

"_A clinic," Hawk answered. "You were hurt pretty bad. Shot. You almost didn't make it."_

_She was silent, confused. "Why?" she asked._

"_Why were you shot?" Scout asked her. "We were hoping you could tell us. Our conversation when we found you wasn't all that long."_

"_No," she corrected, coughing. "Why did you bring me here if I was hurt so badly?"_

"_Because chivalry's not dead," Scout explained with a grin. "It may be in a coma, but…"_

_Jon noticed the confused look on her face. The word 'chivalry' wasn't one she knew? Then again, why would she? He quickly realized this was going to be a confusing conversation, but for this one questions, he had an answer. "We're not like the Dread Youth. We don't leave our wounded behind. Human life is precious and needs to be preserved."_

_The concept of saving a seriously wounded soldier was completely new to her. Jon could see that fact in her eyes. Dread Youth left the critically wounded and their dead behind. Only those who could be salvaged were reclaimed from the battlefield. _

"_You said your name was Jennifer Chase?" Jon prompted her._

_She nodded her head. "Youth Leader Jennifer Chase."_

_Okay, that was progress. "Where were you stationed?"_

_Jennifer coughed, holding her ribs as she did so. "I hadn't received my orders to my next duty station, but I was going to lead a team with the Aerial Command. The Recon Unit."_

"_A pilot!" Hawk said with an enthusiastic grin. "Well, Jennifer Chase, it's always a pleasure to meet another pilot. Precious few of us left."_

_Maybe their friendly attitude seemed too off-putting? She seemed to shrink in front of Jon's eyes. Okay, that tactic wasn't going to work. Maybe a more direct approach? "Hawk," he cautioned. Then, to Jennifer, "You were pretty far away from any kind of settlement when we found you. There's not one for dozens of miles. How'd you get there?"_

_Jennifer didn't answer at first, then she said, "I escaped during a mission." She said 'escaped,' not 'ran away.' That was an interesting term for her to use. "I found out everything was a lie, and I had to run or…"_

_Tank said in a low voice, "Dread wouldn't tolerate any doubt in his ranks once one of his soldiers, especially one of the leaders, learned the truth."_

_That was true enough. Dread's web of lies only worked if truth and logic weren't thrown into the mix. If this former youth leader had seen the lies for what they were… if she had broken through the rumored youth training…_

"_Jennifer, would you be willing to answer some questions about Dread?" Jon hoped she would. There was something about her that indicated she wasn't like the others. No, she was special._

_Jon could see her breath catch in her throat. "Please, no interrogators. I'll tell you whatever –"_

"_Whoa, whoa," Hawk held up a placating hand. "No interrogators. Dread has those, not us."_

_Again, Jon saw the confusion in her eyes. Obviously, she'd been taught that the Resistance had interrogators._

"_There are no interrogators at the prison camps?" she asked._

"_There aren't any prison camps," Jon corrected quickly. She thought she was their prisoner? Was she thinking she had to bargain for her life? "You're not our prisoner," he assured her, hoping that she believed him. "But you are our responsibility. The doctor here patched you up, but she's short staffed and has few beds. Once you're ambulatory, we'll move you to someplace safe."_

_At the word 'safe,' Jon saw the confused look in her eyes again. Someone wanted to keep her safe for whatever reason – it was another foreign concept to her. What had Jon gotten himself into here? _

"_I don't understand." She tried to sit up a little more but the pain stopped her. _

_Scout reached out and touched her arm to get her attention. "You said it yourself. You were a youth leader and you escaped. They have to be hunting you."_

_Then, in a completely unexpected twist, Jennifer told them something less honorable people would use to relinquish all responsibility. "No one's looking for me anymore. You should have left me where you found me. If they ever found out anyone here helped me, you'll be targets, and I'm not worth anyone being killed over."_

_A Dread Youth worried about others' lives? That was something new. "Don't worry, folks out here are pretty good at taking care of themselves. They've had to be."_

_Jennifer shook her head. "Captain, I don't know why you helped me or brought me here, I don't understand why you'd want to keep me safe. I've done some unforgiveable things. I was at Sand Town, and I don't have an excuse. I deserve to be left out there to die. It'd be a fitting punishment."_

"_No, from what we've seen, you don't deserve any of that," Jon said. Self-worth and renewed self-esteem were two things Jon wanted to give to her. One look in her eyes… she was a young woman who had seen unexpected truths and had no understanding of them. If he were to guess, something very earth-shattering had happened to her, and it wasn't just at Sand Town. He instinctively knew that he would have to prove to her that they could be trusted. He couldn't push it, but maybe they could give each other a chance to learn to trust each other._

That was when Jon knew that there was so much more to Jennifer than anyone knew. He taught her what it was to be human? She was the one who showed him how precious humanity was and exactly what it was.

Things she never knew? No, it was Jennifer who taught Jon things he'd forgotten. Showing her how to care for others reconnected him to his own feelings. Watching her reclaim her humanity, learning what they took for granted, showed Jon what they were fighting for – it wasn't just humans. It was humanity itself.

Then, one day, unknowingly, Jennifer had claimed Jon's heart. He didn't even know when it happened. There was something Shakespearean about it – a former youth leader and a resistance leader… but Jon knew what he felt might not be returned. Jennifer's feelings might be nothing more than gratitude and a strong friendship, but he didn't think so anymore. Now, hearing her testimony, seeing the look in her eyes, the inflection in her voice, remembering that kiss, he knew. It was more, but did that change anything? Regardless of what Arvin said, taking the chance and saying the words could change their relationship irrevocably – hopefully for the good.

He leaned back against the boulder and glanced over at her. She was sound asleep, her head turned to the side. He scooted closer to her, and she shifted a bit, leaning against him more than the boulder. No matter what she endured, she rolled with the punches as Hawk would say. He'd never seen anyone with the resilience she possessed. She'd come such a long way since the day they found her, and all of it by sheer will power to overcome the lies that made up her life. But Jon and the others had an insight that others didn't – they knew the real Jennifer Chase. They knew her strength came from the understanding and conviction that she was human, and humans fought the Machines.

_Fought the Machines_ - the timing of the mission suddenly hit him – if Blastarr had been a few minutes later, would the tribunal have found in Randall's favor? What would the townspeople have done to her? Would they have found her guilty? Would she have been unable to stand between the townsfolk and Blastarr? Would there have not been any _after the fact_? The image of what might have happened if Blastarr had been delayed just a few minutes… What if he had never known the simple warm feeling of her leaning against him, deeply asleep after an exhausting day?

**Deserted Dread Base: Northern New Mexico**

The two biodreads had no choice but to return to the nearest working facility to recharge their power cells. The regeneration took too great a toll on their internal systems. The abandoned power plant had just enough left in its systems for them to drain off and repower their own cells.

"You failed again, ground crawler," Soaron taunted him as they stomped through the deserted base. "You let Power and his people get away again!"

"You were the one who failed to destroy them when you knocked them out of the sky, scrapheap," Blastarr retorted. "You had them in your sights and you were the one who was shot down."

Soaron stomped even louder. "Lord Dread will not be satisfied with this outcome."

"I am not, Soaron." Dread's hologram appeared before them. "Power has once again escaped, and he has the data tape concerning Project New Order."

Blastarr bowed his head. "He does, my lord. We do not have his current location or that of his companion."

"Nor do you have the location of the data tape! The information on that tape could prove deadly to the Machine Empire! Redouble your efforts. Find Power. Find the companion. Find that information." Dread's hologram disappeared.

Blastarr stomped off in one direction, Soaron in the other.

"Lord Overmind?" Soaron sent the secure transmission to the computer.

"_I have heard,"_ Overmind explained. _"Do as Dread says. Find Power and the other organic if you can. The information they have will harm Dread's Empire, not the Machine Empire. Once Dread is defeated, the humans deleted and Blastarr destroyed, the Dread Empire will be gone, but the Machine Empire will rule."_

"All hail the Machine," Soaron saluted as he stepped outside the base and flew off.

**Power Base: Near Dawn**

Scout sat at the control panel, waiting for someone, anyone to contact them. No contact from either Jon or Jennifer? That wasn't like them. Somehow, they would have found a way to let their friends know they were all right.

"Anything?" Hawk asked again for the umpteenth time as he hurried back into the control room.

"Nothing," Scout tried repeatedly to trace the original signal the captain sent when reporting in the last time. "They were transmitting and then we lost the signal. We thought it was the storm they told us about, but now I'm not so certain. They're not answering now."

"Can we figure out their coordinates?"

Tank readjusted the telemetry indicator. "The transmission didn't last long enough to lock on their exact location. All we have is the direction. They contacted us from the southwest."

Southwest. He already knew that. Hawk racked his brains – what was in the southwest? Who was there? Who had Jon and Jennifer met? Who gave them the data tape? Hawk couldn't think of a single contact of theirs who was currently in that region of the country. He should have asked Jon more questions before he left.

Hawk pressed a button on the console. "Mentor?"

Mentor's image appeared above them. "Yes, Major Masterson?"

"Can you replay the transmission that Jon received about the meet?"

"Of course, Major." There was a pause, and then Mentor looked rather confused. "I regret to say that it isn't a verbally communicated transmission. It was a focused data stream sent to the buffer over a computer link."

"Wait," Scout interrupted. "We're independent. We don't have a link to any computer system."

"No, we don't," Mentor agreed. "However, all resistance groups are currently utilizing the new modified encryption techniques to prevent Dread from accessing our communications or disguising his own transmissions as one initiated by a resistance group. All communications transmitted are encrypted, and every resistance group uses various programs to encrypt the transmissions."

"Oh, yeah," Hawk mumbled. "That was one of the most confusing briefings I've ever been to."

Scout and Tank both laughed. Scout cleared his throat. "Jennifer and I are working on a secondary program for Mentor, but it's still in the works. Mentor, explain how the current encryption system works."

"In order to know exactly which program is necessary to decrypt the transmission, my system initiates a signal compatibility program the moment a communication is received. The first line of the encryption informs the SCP the method I must use to receive a clear and secure transmission. In this case, the message to the captain was encoded with the first line of the encryption of the message sent to us from Tech City some months ago."

That name got Hawk's attention. "Mindsinger contacted Jon?" He wasn't sure he liked that.

"I cannot determine the individual who initiated contact. There is no voice print to analyze."

Hawk definitely didn't like that. Jon hadn't said anything about the communication not being sent personally. "What did the data stream say?"

Mentor read the file. "It contains coordinates for a location in the west. The signature of the file indicates that it was encrypted by Mindsinger's program. However, there is no evidence that the file was originally sent from Tech City. It would be a logical assumption."

So it was possible that someone from Tech City was sending information to them, but why meet in the west? Tech City was east of their location.

"Why don't we use those coordinates to go after them?" Scout asked.

"When Jon checked in, he said they had to go to a new rendezvous point. There's no telling where they were, and no way to trace them." Hawk looked at his watch. Sunup was mere minutes away. Maybe once the sun came up, Jon would contact them.


	25. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 8

**On The Desert Road**

The crawler kept up a good pace. Clegg expertly drove it over the terrain, avoiding rocks, dips, and bumps. Jennifer sat beside him, holding a gun, watching for anything that looked like a biodread if they were still in the area. After everything that had happened, she wasn't talking very much to anyone. Then again, perhaps Clegg didn't know what to say to make small talk. Jon sat in the back of the crawler, stretching his leg out as Randall kept watch out of the back of the crawler. Clegg could only take them to the base of the rise where the sky bike had crashed, then he needed to pick up the bodies of Jack and Martin and get the crawler back to the Oasis refugees to help transport the wounded on to Penham.

Randall sat opposite him, watching the ground go by as the crawler lumbered along. He was very quiet, still in mourning the loss of his uncle. Jon had already given Randall his condolences. He knew what it was like to lose not just a close family member, but the last one he had. Like Jon, Randall had close friends who would look out for him and help him, so he wasn't alone.

They sat quietly for a time, but Jon's curiosity was getting the best of him. "Randall, can I ask you a question?"

Randall nodded. "Sure."

"How did you remember Jennifer after all these years?" he asked in a low voice. He didn't want for Jennifer to hear – he didn't want to upset her.

Randall pulled a picture out of his pocket and unfolded it. There was a remarkable likeness of Jennifer drawn on it, only it was Youth Leader Chase, not Jennifer depicted on the page. Jon took the paper and looked at it carefully. "This is very good. The way you drew her eyes – they look just like her."

"Really?" Randall asked as he looked at the picture again. "I always thought I never could get the eyes right. I could only make them look…"

Jon finished his explanation. "Like they're human and not the empty, emotionless eyes of a Dread Youth. I know - I've seen too many eyes like that myself."

"That was the problem," Randall confessed. "I never could draw them the way I knew they had to be."

"But you did draw them the way they are," Jon countered quickly. "Actually, when I first met her, it was her eyes that showed me that she wasn't like the others. You could see right into her soul, and I could see she was hurting."

Randall grew quiet again. Finally, he had to ask, "Was growing up in the Dread Youth really as bad as she said?"

Jon shook his head. "No, it's far worse than what she told you. She gave you a few facts, but the details of how Dread Youth are raised are hard for any of us to comprehend. She's told us some of it, but not all. Dread takes their humanity, their sense of self, everything that makes them individuals."

Randall frowned. "Is it really all lies? That's what she said."

Jon nodded. "Dread lies. He uses rhetoric to hide the truth, and litanies to train his troops. When she went to Sand Town, she really didn't know what would happen. And when she got there, there was nothing she could do to stop what happened to the town. If she did anything other than what was procedure, that overunit probably was under standing orders to deal with any soldier who disobeyed, and they don't think twice about shooting someone down. It's hard to explain how saving you and your uncle that night put her in more danger than you can imagine, but she'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Randall was quiet for a while, then he said in a low voice, "She didn't know my father was hiding under the house."

"No," Jon explained. "I know her. She'd have tried to save him if she'd known, just like she saved you and your uncle. Even if it cost her her life." He handed the drawing back to Randall.

"No, you keep it," Randall said. "I don't think I'll need to draw her anymore."

Jon smiled, folded up the paper and put it in his pocket.

The crawler jerked to a halt. "Okay, folks, here's where you get off," Clegg called out.

Jon scooted to the back of the crawler, Randall and Clegg helped haul him out. "Thanks for bringing us this far," he said. "We appreciate it."

Clegg waved a dismissing hand. "After everything that happened, we still owe you." He handed Jennifer a large leather bag. "You said your radio was damaged when you crashed. Here are some repair parts we had laying around. Some of them may help. There are some items in there that may help you shore up your landing gear, at least enough to let you fly out of the area."

Jennifer took the pouch with a grin and hoisted it over her shoulder. "Thank you," she told him as she handed him back his gun.

Clegg patted Randall on the shoulder and crawled back into the driver's seat. Randall turned to Jennifer, looking more apologetic. "I sorry I tried to hit you with the ax."

Jennifer placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I had to deck you."

"I missed a lot, didn't I?" Jon asked jokingly.

"Randall," Clegg called. "We need to get Jack and Martin, take them back to the ruins. They're on the other side of this rise."

Randall climbed into the passenger's seat. With a goodbye wave, they were gone. For the first time since early the previous morning, Jon felt relieved. He'd never been around a group of 'nice' people he wanted to be as far away from as he did the Oasis refugees. Yes, it was because of what they put Jennifer through, but he couldn't say they weren't hospitable _after the fact_, but he wanted a lot of distance between them. He knew he'd feel better and sleep easier.

"What do you think? Having to go around the base and then up an incline… two mile walk?" he asked.

"About that," she said as they started off in the direction of the path that would lead them to the sky bike. Jennifer walked slow enough to accommodate Jon's limping on his makeshift crutches. "This is the gentler slope or so Clegg said. We should be able to climb it to the top pretty easily. The first thing we need to do is get the radio repaired. Hawk is going to be worried about us. I just hope we can cut through the interference of that storm. It'll be here in a few hours."

The storm. Jon glanced up at the advancing clouds. That storm was going to be… what had Hawk called them? A gully washer?

"Then I'll remove the starboard landing arm. It'll make the bike easier to fly if I can get it going again. At least I'll be able to balance it. We may have to fly slow and low to the ground, maybe make hops but it should get us back home."

She was becoming all business. Jon knew when she behaved like that, there was more to the story. "Jennifer?"

She turned toward him, not slowing her pace.

"If you want to talk, I'll listen."

Jennifer stopped. She glanced around, then she looked at the snow-capped mountain that had been her guide through the desert. "I know you heard the testimony I gave at the tribunal, and you've never asked about anything else that happened around the time I escaped."

"I thought that when you wanted us to know the rest of it, you'd tell us," he explained. "I know a lot of it's been hard to talk about."

Jennifer nodded, her eyes very much on the mountain. "There's something I want to show you on that mountain. It's a safe place. We can wait out the storm there."

**Power Base: Three Hours Later**

The three men sat stunned around the main control console. They'd just heard news that could have been far worse.

"Are we hearing right? They put her on trial for Sand Town?" Tank asked Hawk, completely disbelieving the report.

"I think so," Hawk confirmed quickly. "It was hard to hear through the static. If Mentor's cleaned up version of Jon's transmission is right, the people at Oasis only agreed to go after him if Jennifer went with the townsfolk quietly and abided by their decision at a tribunal for her actions at Sand Town." Hawk spoke into the communicator. "We'll come get you."

"_You'd never make it in time. The storm's practically on top of us. Jennifer knows a place for us to wait out the storm. It shouldn't last too long and we'll head out as soon as it's passed._"

"What about Soaron and Blastarr? Are they still in the area?"

"_There's no way to know. Blastarr took some pretty bad hits in Oasis. Once he's regenerated, they may head back to Volcania. We should be okay for now. We'll check in as soon as we can._"

"Should be okay?" Hawk asked. He didn't like the way Jon said that phrase.

"_More happened at Sand Town than we knew, and Jennifer found out a few things herself. Something else has hit her pretty hard, I think. I don't know what it is yet." _

Hawk knew Jon was the only one who could find out if Jennifer was ready to talk. "Okay. Contact us again as soon as you can. Mentor says the storm is showing signs of weakening, so it should be enough for you to get through to us."

"_Roger that. Power out_."

"Major Masterson?" Mentor looked down at Hawk from his perch on top of the console. "Neither Captain Power nor Corporal Chase were dressed for the winter conditions in the mountainous region of the area they're in. Temperatures have already dropped drastically and the storm will reduce them further."

"They'll be okay, Mentor." They'd have to be.

Scout paced around the control room, slamming his fist in his hand. "They didn't have any right to do that. Sand Town wasn't her fault. She didn't know that everything Dread told them was a bunch a lies until then. How could they put her on trial for that?"

Hawk looked up at Mentor who was patiently listening to the conversation. "She's the one who gave the order to have the town cleansed. I think Jon said a boy named Randall and his uncle remembered her."

"She just repeated a litany," Tank argued. "They were conditioned to do that from childhood."

Hawk was so angry with the townsfolk, he couldn't think clearly. Instead, he changed the subject. "The bike's damaged, so they've got to do some repair work before they can fly a long distance. They should be able to make some short hops. I don't like it. Blastarr and Soaron may still in that area."

"Should we go get them?" Tank asked.

Hawk shook his head. "Jon said not to. Anyway, we can't. We just got an emergency request from the Passages. We've got to get there. Mentor, keep this frequency open at all times. Jon may try to get through again. Until they get to a fully functioning radio, they're out there without us and I don't like it."

"Of course, Major," Mentor agreed.

**Above The Desert**

That storm was almost on top of them. Jon could feel it was going to be more than just a typical storm. It was going to be ripping, thunderous and violent. He could feel it in the air and see it as the dark clouds lit up with lightning.

Jon saw the dark thunderclouds just ahead of them, curving around the mountains. He felt the high winds rocking the bike. The weather front was massive and stretched across the horizon. It was still moving slowly towards them. No wonder Jennifer wanted to wait it out someplace safe. There would be no way for the crippled sky bike to fly around it, over it or through it – not if they wanted to reach the base in one piece. They were limping home slowly as it was, both literally and figuratively. Jon's leg would need real medical care, not just a quick patch job and the sky bike would have to undergo a complete overhaul and rebuild. It was taking every bit of skill Jennifer had to keep the sky bike balanced without any landing arms.

There was a far worse storm brewing in the woman sitting before him as well. He could sense Jennifer's turmoil as she focused her attention on piloting the sky bike. She was still being extraordinarily quiet, and it wasn't just because of sheer concentration. It was because of what happened in Oasis. Something else, maybe another memory, was ripping away at her.

To tell the truth, he wasn't feeling very talkative either. Jon didn't know what to say. Too much had happened on the mission, and the thoughts were still running through his head. Small talk on the walk back to the sky bike hadn't gone over very well either. Of all the people who could call Jennifer 'friend,' Jon was the one person who should have been able to talk to her no matter the circumstances. He was still in the dark to the whatever-it-was connected with Sand Town that was bothering Jennifer.

Sand Town. Once again, it had come back to haunt them, but this time, it wasn't merely the name of a place or the place of a horrible memory. Real people who had survived and escaped stood face to face with someone who had no idea what would happen. As much as she had told the team, as much as she had confessed, there were small details that Jon had never known about. Then again, Jennifer hadn't known about them either. The details came from witnesses who survived Sand Town. Their stories came from entirely different perspectives.

Jennifer flew toward the mountain. Again, Jon thought that there was something familiar about the place, something he couldn't quite remember.

He leaned over so she could hear him. "Will the bike stay in the air long enough for us to get there?"

"Not at this altitude with all this wind," she said. "I'm taking her lower to the ground." Fighting the flailing sky bike, she flew low over the mountainous region. She slowed the bike down and carefully maneuvered it until they'd reached the far side of the mountain. Beyond that was another mountain and another after that. She found the site she was looking for, slowed the bike down and landed it as carefully as she could beside a wall of rock. After powering it down, she said, "Wait here. Let me make sure everything's okay before we move the bike in closer."

"In closer where?" Jon asked.

Jennifer pointed to a particular section of rock nearby. There was a dark area. Jon thought it was shadows. "It's a cave entrance," she told him.

Jon realized that this was going to be one of those times when Jennifer wasn't going to do a lot of talking all at once until she was ready. She had a story to tell, and the cave was part of it.


	26. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 9

**Cave**

Jon stayed by the bike as Jennifer scouted out the cave. He couldn't see the beam from her flashlight any longer. He waited; he listened in case there was something else in that cave other than her. Not that he could do very much with one blaster with a bent barrel and another blaster that now had leaked out the last of its power from the power cell. Looking out over the ground below, he could see for miles. Maybe over a hundred miles. They were on the other side of the mountain from Oasis. Sand Town would have been somewhere down below them. Jon couldn't see any signs of a settlement. Then again, he didn't know where Sand Town's exact location was. He remembered hearing about the town being destroyed when it happened, but it was just the name of another town in a long list of settlements destroyed that year. Town razings by Dread were routine news that year.

The first time he heard Jennifer mention Sand Town, he hadn't given it another thought other than she had been there. Perception was a razor-sharp knife – but it all depended on which end of the knife you were holding. To Jon, Sand Town was one of the many towns destroyed by Dread, lives ended, prisoners taken, buildings burned and no one in the Resistance able to help them in time – he hadn't known that some of those attacks were because Dread was looking to destroy the radios and squelch the plans to form a more organized resistance. One by one, the settlement names became a blur. But to Jennifer, Sand Town wasn't just another destroyed town. It wasn't just a blurred name in a long list of names. She had been there, stood in the midst of the explosions and the fires and the chaos, heard the screaming and witnessed lives being shattered. It had been burned into her memory, branded into her very being.

And Jon? After so many years of fighting, hearing that the Dread soldiers had destroyed another town was nothing out of the ordinary. As much as he hated to say it, it had become commonplace.

He glanced around. It was November. The air was cold. The wind from the coming storm was getting stronger. There was snow on the ground, blowing around, and there was a feeling to the air that more could fall. Trees lined the surrounding ridge they were standing on, hiding paths that led over the mountain. The site was somewhat secluded, somewhat secure. The opening in the rock wall was practically invisible no matter what angle it was approached from. How did Jennifer know about a cave?

"It's okay," he heard her voice as she came out of the cave opening. "We can put the bike under the overhang." She pointed above them. Jon hadn't noticed that there was a low rock protruding from the rock wall just to the side of the cave entrance.

Together, they were able to move the bike under the overhang. It wasn't easy maneuvering the vehicle while leaning on a crutch. Then Jon followed her inside the cave, the flashlight lighting their way. He counted his steps – seven limping steps past the entrance, then a slight turn to the right, five more limps and they walked into a larger area. Jennifer shone the light around. The cave was an odd shape, definitely not round, rugged and ragged but without very many stalagmites and stalactites. Someone could camp out in the cave and have enough room on the floor to stretch out and sleep. Jon could stand straight without his head hitting the roof, barely. "Cozy," he said.

"Not yet, but it will be," she said, her voice rather flat and emotionless.

Jennifer dusted away some dirt on the floor to uncover what looked like a metal plate buried there. She dug along the top of the plate until she had moved just enough dirt to get hold of the round metal loops that allowed her lift it. She hefted it up and pulled a metal container out of the dirt. Jon recognized the markings and the numbers etched on the side. It was an old army survival kit carried by soldiers on the battlefield before the turn of the century.

"I haven't seen one of those outside of a military museum since I was a kid," he said as he sat down next to her as she tried to get the rusty lock to open.

Jennifer looked away from the lock momentarily and glanced at him. "I found this at a small campsite after a biomech attack. There had been maybe three people there judging from what I found. I scavenged what little was left. The biomechs had destroyed just about everything, but this had been tossed away I guess. I found it behind a tree stump." She tried to open it, but the lock was jammed.

"Need help?" he asked, trying to be useful.

Jennifer finally broke through the lock and opened the lid. "No, I got it." Inside were items Jon had never seen used outside of an historical documentary - a wind-up lantern and a wind-up heater. They were antiques by their standards, but fifty years earlier, there wasn't a soldier who would take the field without wind-up machinery. Hawk's father, an Air Force colonel who loved to tell a young Jon Power all sorts of war stories, always called them 'jack in the boxes only without the jacks.' You wind the crank for a full minute to charge the internal generator, and the machine would operate for half an hour. For a brief moment, Jon wondered if the Machine Empire would have considered such items contraband. They certainly weren't part of the officially sanctioned equipment requisitioned for each Dread Youth soldier. They were old when the Metal Wars were in the headlines, and given Dread's tendency to keep history and historical items away from the Dread Youth, the wind-up machinery might never have been mentioned.

And how did she know that box was there?

"Do they work?" he asked her.

She checked the handle on the small lantern and then began to wind it. After a minute, they had more light in the cave. It pushed back the darkness. She shut off her own flashlight to save power. "The lantern does, but the heater has a broken spring. I might be able to patch it. It'll take a while though, and it's going to get very cold in here if I can't get this working. It always did before."

_Before?_

She was focusing on doing something, anything, any type of work. It was the old behavior coming back. Maybe Jon could get her to talk about what was bothering her if he just started talking?

"They're pretty resilient items. Hawk's father used them when he was in the service. He said he had this one wind-up flashlight from the time he was at the Academy until he retired. Called it his good luck charm and he never went anywhere without it even when it quit working. When I was a kid, Dad took me to a military museum and they had them on display. I think the museum was maybe an hour away from Chicago. I think it was the Great Lakes Museum? I've never seen anyone actually use one before."

"I had no idea what they were," she explained as she tried to get the wind-up heater working. "I started inspecting them, wound up the flashlight and saw what it did. It was pretty simple after that." She opened the outer casing of the heater and tried to adjust the spring. "I always called them portable power sources. Imagine if we had something like this to power our suits when they shut down."

"That would solve a lot of our problems," Jon said, mentally kicking himself about not thinking of it before. Emergency power recharge, even if it wasn't much, could make a difference in a fight! It was definitely something he had to look into.

He saw the look of concentration on her face, saw her glance toward the entrance when the first rumbles of thunder from the storm reached them. Jon could actually feel the walls in the cave vibrate from the sound.

"The spring's rusted through," she told him. "We'll have to have a campfire. It will help a little."

Jon was about to point out that the wood outside would be wet from all the snow until he saw Jennifer reach behind another jagged rock and pick up several pieces of firewood and kindling. "There's enough hidden here to last a couple of days," she told him. "I don't think we'll be here that long."

Okay, she knew an almost invisible cave was there, she knew firewood was there and she had buried wind-up survival gear in the dirt…

Jon leaned against the wall. He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what she wanted to say, so he said the first thing that came into his head. "I'm guessing there's a story behind this cave?"

Jennifer stacked the firewood in a circle of rocks Jon had failed to notice when they entered. There was what looked like old ash lying in the middle of it. Old ash? Burnt ash? Jennifer placed the kindling underneath the firewood, and luckily for them, matches were part of _their_ own personal survival gear and she had a small fire built in no time. She stared at the flames for a few moments, then Jon reached over, took her hand and pulled her back where he was. "There's a lot more to the story, isn't there?"

She nodded. She reached behind more rocks and pulled a folded up jacket out of the dirt. She unfolded it to reveal an old shirt and a pair of pants. She shook the dirt out from them, and Jon noticed that the jacket was big enough to fit Tank. What was more startling was she reached inside the pocket of the jacket and pulled out a leather strap and a youth leader cap. The strap was the insignia that indicated her rank as a youth leader. Come to think of it, she wasn't wearing either one when they found her. She glanced up at the ceiling and made a circular motion with her hand. "This was my home for a while," she told him. "I hid here after I escaped from the Dread Youth."

He'd almost guessed that much. "Hey," he placed his hand under her chin and tilted her head to look at him. "I'll listen. Anything you want to tell me, I'll listen."

She took a deep breath. "I've told you a lot, but not everything. I know Arvin gave you a recording of the tribunal, I saw him hand it to you, but …" Jennifer grew very quiet, as if lost in thought.

"Jennifer?"

"You know how I had a lot happen to me in a short amount of time just before Sand Town? That's how I broke through the conditioning?"

Jon nodded.

"Before _any_ of that happened, I was no different than any other Dread Youth. I wanted to be an overunit. Me. Can you believe it? Being an overunit was much more than just being the one in charge. Only those who were considered the most loyal to the Machine could be promoted that high. Some overunits were special. They got to speak to Dread in person. They could actually go into his throne room specifically. These few were allowed into the Overmind's throne room. Their names were brought to him for special attention. They had unlimited privileges and could go outside Volcania without reporting to anyone. Being an overunit meant having a freedom that no other soldier could ever enjoy."

Jon thought for a second. What could he say to that? "Being an overunit is like catching the brass ring?"

"Or winning the blue ribbon or the kewpie doll," she said, amused at the terms she'd heard the others use from time to time. "As an overunit, I would have been able to do things I couldn't do as a youth leader. Do you remember when I told you that all movement is monitored in Volcania?"

Jon remembered that conversation – "_After Sand Town, I knew I had to leave, but escaping the Dread Youth wasn't easy. It probably still isn't. All movement is monitored. Everyone is accounted for before and after a mission. I knew that if I could get away, I didn't know which way to go or what I was going to do. I just knew I had to leave no matter what happened to me afterwards."_

She had explained that to him when Dread used the boy they called Mitch as a virus carrier. "I remember."

"Even though overunits are monitored, they had the security clearance to go just about anywhere in the Empire."

"You couldn't do that as a youth leader," Jon observed. He was still confused. "Jennifer –"

"I got the promotion to overunit," she whispered. "I was told before we went to Sand Town that I was getting it. I was the youngest person to be awarded the rank of overunit. You have no idea how much of a distinction that gave me. At Sand Town, Overunit Wilson told me that I would not only be getting my promotion, but she confirmed that I was to be transferred into a metalloid body and be given my own command in the Aerial Defense and Recon Unit. That particular group is a machine only group. The timing for it depended on my performance. She said it had nothing to do with me, that it was something political. I don't know what she meant."

Jon didn't know what to say. She had never mentioned that she had reached the rank of overunit. She had never said she was anything other than a youth leader. "What happened?" he finally asked.

"I performed as expected at Sand Town. If I didn't, I'd have been shot down or worse."

"Digitized," Jon added.

"That's worse," Jennifer explained. "If I'd known about Randall's father…but I didn't know until yesterday…" her voice trailed off.

Jon didn't want her thinking along those lines. "You couldn't have known."

Jennifer sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Sand Town was their idea of a success, my performance was impeccable, and I was awarded my promotion to overunit. The official ceremony was going to be a little later, after I was transferred, so I knew my time was short. If I was going to do anything, I had to do it fast."

Jon thought about everything. She was revealing much more than she ever had before. "You were an overunit in that small amount of time between Sand Town and when you escaped?"

She nodded her head. "The day I got back to Volcania after I got my new rank, I made use of it. I used the privacy protocols that only overunits have to access the geographical database so I'd know which paths to take to escape. That was when I found the Youth historical registries as well."

The geographical database and the Youth historical registries when she learned her given name wasn't Jennifer Chase. Jon had so many questions, but he was scared about asking her too many of them. "Did they know you had accessed it?"

She shook her head. "Privacy protocols. An overunit is above reproach or suspicion because we've proven we're loyal to Dread."

Jon turned toward her a little, being careful of his leg. "I've never asked exactly how you escaped."

"On the next mission," she told him. He knew that much, but now, he was about to learn the rest of it. "We left Volcania and flew to Kansas. I found out later that it was Dodge City. Mentor enjoyed telling me about the historical significance of that town," she almost chuckled as she remembered. "It was to be another cleansing because someone there had a radio. I used the security protocols to open a frequency on a communicator that their radio could pick up. All the settlers heard was the conversation between the other overunits about the upcoming attack. When we got there, they were waiting for us."

"Wait…" Jon thought for a moment. "We were called to Dodge City. The mayor told us that they'd picked up a transmission. It was you who warned them. You helped save hundreds."

"It was the only thing I could do without suspicion. You know, that was the first time I ever saw all of you in action," she confided in him. "By the time you arrived, most of the town had been evacuated but their defenses held. The overunits ordered missiles to be fired. After a close blast, I pretended I'd been hit along with two of the other townspeople. Once I was down, I would be overlooked for the rest of the battle. They started to burn the town, and the fires were getting closer, and when no one was around or could see me, I dragged a dead woman's body over to the two that were there and switched boots with her. I also left my primary ident tag around her wrist. The fires were so hot… if the soldiers analyzed the ashes, they would find the ident tag and the remnants of Youth issued boots. They'd think it was me, and I would be listed as killed in action."

Boots? Jon tried to remember what boots she was wearing when they first met. Her clothes were torn and tattered, and he'd never paid any attention to her boots. Still, boots aside, there were other things he was curious about. "You were wearing a youth leader uniform when we found you," he began.

"There hadn't been a reason for me to be issued an overunit uniform since I was supposed to be transferred in a very short amount of time. I did get called Overunit Chase for that little while. That title made my skin crawl, and just days earlier, that would have been the greatest honor I could think of." She got quiet for a moment. "I only wanted to be an overunit after Sand Town so I could escape. It was the only way I could think of to get out of there quickly before they transferred me because no one would be look at what I researched in the computers."

What a difference a few days made, Jon mused. Going from a loyal soldier who earned the rank to someone who needed the rank to get as far from the soldiers as possible. Tactically, it was a brilliant plan and the only option open to her at the time.

What did surprise him was that she'd been at Dodge City. "We didn't find any living bodies when we scouted for survivors," he told her.

"You wouldn't have. I was gone by then."

"But if we had found you then," he mumbled, "we could have helped you –"

"No," she shook her head. "I wouldn't have let anyone help me then. I wasn't ready to allow anyone to help me. I believed I deserved whatever happened to me."

"How did you get out of Dodge?"

Jennifer almost smiled at the reference. "I found clothes scattered on the ground. I grabbed these," she held up the jacket, shirt and pants, "put them on and ran with the rest of the people escaping. No one paid me any attention because everyone was running for their lives and I didn't look any different from anyone else. I eventually got away from the others and ran in another direction. I knew there was a small abandoned guard outpost about twenty miles from Dodge. There weren't any biomechs on guard duty there anymore. It wasn't monitored. I got there the morning of the next day. I found a few things. A gun, old stores of food packs that would have been there for human soldiers previously assigned there, some other survival gear – it wasn't much of anything, but it was more than I had."

The gun. She had used that gun to fight off biomechs when they found her. She'd shot it until it was empty. An overunit would have not been issued a gun on a cleansing. They would have relied on the biomechs for protection. She had traveled that entire distance unarmed?

"I packed up what I could. There was a barely working transport stored there that I commandeered as well. I drove out of there and didn't look back. I didn't care what happened to me."

"Where were you going?" he asked.

"I had checked the geographic databases for areas around Dodge City before we went there. Passable roads, water sources, things I'd need to find to survive. Without even thinking about it, I found myself taking a very long trip back to Sand Town. I couldn't tell you why."

Jon started thinking about the geography of the area. Food and water would have been difficult to find. Shelter? Speaking of shelter, "And when you got here, you found this cave," he surmised.

"All by accident," she told him. "The transport got me within fifty miles of here, I think. It could have been one hundred miles. It broke down on me and I couldn't repair it, so I packed up everything I could carry and just walked. I didn't pay attention to the distance. Then, one day, I saw this mountain. I knew exactly where I was and decided this is where I was supposed to go. I was on the eastern side of the mountain, and started to walk up one path I found until I got over here. I could stand anywhere on this side, look through my binoculars and see the ruins of Sand Town in the distance. I can't tell you why I had to go back to Sand Town or why I couldn't go down there once I got here. I still don't understand it. I was looking for a place to camp when I saw birds flying into an opening in the rock wall, and I thought maybe there was a nest up here. I also thought that if there were animals, maybe there was a water source nearby. I climbed up, and found the entrance to this cave."

"And here you stayed for months," Jon said, suddenly gaining new insight into Jennifer. "The attack on Sand Town was in the summer, and we found you in January. On the other side of this mountain." That was why the area looked so familiar. This was where they first met Jennifer. Another question he had suddenly had an answer. "That's how you found Oasis. You knew where the water station was in relation to the mountain."

Jennifer nodded. "We had to know the area that was attacked in case any soldier got separated from the group. Only it wasn't a station then. It was just a small water post with a few people there. It wasn't of any concern to the overunits."

Jon mentally kicked himself again. Months. She'd been there in that cave alone for months. Like Arvin said, she forced herself into a self-imposed penance. Every day, she would force herself to remember what she had done by seeing the ruins of the town. More questions came to his mind. How had she survived? He looked around the cave again. He noticed a small trickle of water coming from the ceiling – if she had something to catch it in, she would have had some to drink. Food? Was there enough food growing in the woods to sustain someone? And it had been wintertime. Food would have been scarce, but how had she kept warm in a cave? A campfire would give off only so much heat and too much smoke in the cave. Did the wind-up heater keep her warm enough all that time?

"How did you survive here?" he asked.

"Some of the survival training I had in the Dread Youth came in handy. " She pointed toward the trickle Jon had already spotted. "I had some water, but it wasn't much. A lot of the time, I melted snow. I had wood to make a fire. There were some root vegetables growing wild further down the mountain. I knew that people who lived in the wastelands hunted animals. I tried that a few times with very limited success. In case you forgot, I needed to gain a lot of weight when you first met me."

That she had. She looked starved and exhausted. Greta's diagnosis had mentioned that she was malnourished, but she was alive. He glanced back at the wind-up lantern that was starting to dim. He grabbed it and cranked the handle. "You found this equipment on your way here?"

She nodded.

"Lucky for us they were still here after all this time," he said.

"When I'd leave here to look for food and water, I'd hide everything in case biomechs found the cave. At least then, they wouldn't find my gear."

"Did they come here a lot?"

"Not at first," she told him. "They'd search the valley. Eventually, they started searching the mountains. I think they were looking for settlements or they were trying to purge this entire area of humans. I don't know. A few times, I'd be in here and I'd hear them right outside. I swore they were so close, they could hear my heart beating."

"And that day we found you, on the other side of the mountain –"

"They caught me out looking for food. It had snowed for a few days. What little stores I'd had were depleted. I'd gone a while without any food, so I had set up a few traps to try to catch birds or a rabbit. Can you believe it? One of Dread's soldiers was able to rig up a crude trap to catch a wild animal. No one would have believed that. I thought I heard one get sprung, and I went outside to see if I'd caught anything. It was just down the path, so I didn't even put on the jacket. That's when I heard them coming towards me. I ran in the opposite direction of the cave. I didn't want them finding it. I guess you could say it was my base. I ran on one of the smaller paths to the other side, and they outflanked me. If Hawk hadn't flown in when he did and took out the ones coming up behind me, I would've been dead."

Jon's memory went back to that moment when they first met.

_"Why do you think you don't deserve any help?" he asked, noting that she would be unconscious in minutes from the blood loss where she had been shot. _

_She took a deep breath – Jon could tell that it hurt her. It was possible she had injured her ribs. "I've done some unforgiveable things," she said. "You should have let the biomechs have me. It would have been a fitting punishment." _

_Punishment? "What do you mean?" _

_When Jennifer looked at Jon again, there were tears in her eyes. A Dread Youth that could cry? Was that possible? "I was at Sand Town," she told him. _

_Sand Town. She didn't have to explain that, but Sand Town was attacked weeks earlier. _

Only now, he knew it wasn't weeks. It had been months earlier. Jon hadn't realized how much time had passed. It had only seemed like weeks since he heard the name of the town.

"There's no way we'd ever let the biomechs get you if we could help it," he told her.

"I know that now," she said with a slight smile. "Then, I thought it was what I deserved."

"You didn't deserve it," he contradicted.

"I gave the order to cleanse the town," she reminded him.

That, Jon knew how to respond to. "Let me ask you this – did you walk up to the lead biomech and tell it to cleanse the town?"

Jennifer furrowed her forehead in confusion. "What?"

"From Gaelen's testimony, the overunit asked a question, and you responded. Your response was a slogan you'd repeated thousands of times before, right?"

Jennifer shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I said the words, judgment was rendered and people died."

Jon reached out and gently took her shoulder. "The overunit asked you a question that you were conditioned to answer a certain way. That's what you did." Once, long ago, she had told them the litanies. She could recite them without thinking about them. The words just fell out of her mouth. Once, Scout had asked about a particular part of one of the sayings, and Jennifer had to mentally say the entire litany before reaching that part. Litanies were so routine that the details were lost in the monotony. One comment triggered an automatic response, an unthinking answer. It was absolutely Pavlovian. How many other times had such an occurrence happened? How many just like what happened to Jennifer at Sand Town?

"I spouted a slogan, just like Gaelen said. I wish that was all it had been."

Jon didn't kid himself. He knew exactly what she was saying. The litanies were said unthinkingly by the Dread Youth, but to outsiders? They were something very specific, very detailed and very dangerous. Jennifer understood that in a way that Jon couldn't appreciate. He hadn't walked the same path she had. All he could do was be a bystander to parts of her life. Still, what happened would have happened no matter what Jennifer did. "I'm sure Gaelen must have always wished that he hadn't told them about the radio or gone directly back to Sand Town after they released him," Jon pointed out. "What happened at Sand Town wasn't one person's fault. They were going to destroy that town no matter what you said, but you stayed alive by saying what you did, and I am very glad you're alive. I like you here with me… us… your choice wouldn't have changed the outcome of what happened at Sand Town, but by making the choice you did, you stayed alive and you have saved thousands of others. Look at the people in Dodge City. They survived because you were able to warn them, not to mention all the people in all the towns we've helped since you've joined us." How could he explain? He knew the guilt that racked her. She had given the order. That fact alone kept her awake at night. Now to know more of what happened? That would haunt her the rest of her days. How could he – "There's something I've found out after all these years of fighting Dread. Sometimes, the right thing isn't always the right choice or the one that we think we can live with. Sometimes, in war, we have to do the wrong thing because it's what's best in the long run. I wish it weren't the case, but it is and I don't think that'll ever change."

Jennifer couldn't stop the smile. "That doesn't really change things."

Jon agreed. "No. What happened, happened. But I agree with Gaelen. You don't bear the guilt of what happened at Sand Town. Its destruction was a foregone conclusion before you even went on the mission. Nothing you said or did would have made a difference about that, but you did save lives that day when you helped Gaelen and Randall escape. There may have been others that sneaked out in those few moments you bought for those two. You risked a lot do that. I don't think anyone there could understand how brave that one action was." He paused for a moment, then said, "I do think you do a formidable job when you impersonate an overunit though."

That was a quick change of conversation. "Why is that?"

"Remember when I was captured and the youth leader was questioning me in that Room? You dressed as an overunit and marched in there giving orders? You were very impressive. All the times I've seen you impersonate Dread Youth, that was a masterful acting job."

"Would you believe I patterned that particular overunit impersonation on Overunit Wilson, my superior at Sand Town?"

"I did not know that," he mused. If that was what her superior was like, it was no wonder she stayed locked in her act as a loyal youth leader that night. "And it doesn't matter if you were an overunit those last few days or a youth leader or a cadet – you did what you had to do, and you're alive today because of it. It was the right choice, and I don't want you to doubt that."

Jennifer did smile a rather sad smile. "Maybe one day, I'll believe that."

"Maybe one day, you will. I know I already do."


	27. Chapter 16 Judgment Part 10

The cold November wind howled outside the cave, and the cold seeped in. The thunder rumbled around them, and the sound of rain hitting the rock facing outside echoed into the cave. The small campfire helped warm up the small area, and the smoke went out the entrance and through small fissures in the cave ceiling. Jon was amazed at the setup. He was a firm believer that people made their own luck, that one's actions would come back to them, but Luck or Fate must have smiled on Jennifer to give her the cave to survive in for those months. Shelter, water, a means of warmth – it had been there for her, and she had survived alone in the wilderness.

Although there was warmth, it wasn't warm in the cave. Sitting beside him, Jennifer cupped her hands and blew into them, trying to warm her fingers. It had been so hot in the desert, and now it was so cold on the mountain. The irony and the extremes on this mission was one for the record books. He watched as she tossed another log on the fire and crossed her arms in an effort to stay warm.

Jon knew that he could be a gentleman or he could be the captain or he could be a friend. Feeling the goose bumps starting to form on his own skin, he knew that being a gentleman and a friend was much more important. He set aside military protocol. He reached out and rubbed his hands along her upper arms. "It's cold," he said to make conversation. "And you're shivering." A stray thought crossed his mind. Was it only the cold that was making her shiver? Could it be because of proximity? Because he was touching her?

"It's November," she answered him as she blew on her fingers again. "When I was here before, it just seemed like it was always cold even when I had a fire and the heater going. I couldn't get warm."

That was then, he thought. This was now. He could see she was shivering more than he was. "Well, we're not going to freeze today," he told her with a slight laugh in his voice. "Come here." He placed his arms around Jennifer's shoulders and pulled her close to him. She seemed a bit tense at first, as if she didn't know how to react to the behavior. He could have kicked himself. She had been raised in an emotionless world. Even after living outside Volcania all those years, sometimes certain actions confused her. "Chivalry's not dead," he told her quickly.

Dread Youth didn't touch. They were taught to keep their distance from others. The first time anyone on the team had hugged her, she seemed unsure about what it was and why she was being hugged. Over time, overt forms of physical contact seemed to be far less surprising. Jon would even see a smile as she returned a hug. An arm around the shoulders to share warmth? Not something she'd ever done before, but he knew she understood that chivalry wasn't dead when she relaxed against him. She grabbed the oversized jacket and put it around the front of them. Together, they'd stay warm enough even if they couldn't really stay warm until the storm was over and they could try to fly out of there. Sitting next to her, having an arm around her – it was an incredible feeling. He forced the smile he felt inside to not show on his face. He didn't want to overstep any bounds if he didn't know if new boundaries were being built between them – or maybe being torn down.

What he did notice is that her shivering seemed to decrease as she tucked herself a little closer to him.

Perhaps it was the flickering firelight or maybe it was the dim lantern light, but he could make out strange shapes and shadows on the walls made from the jagged rocks situated around the edges of the cave. It was like the times he used to go camping as a boy. He and Mitch would try to see scary shapes in the shadows the campfire made. They'd make up scary stories, trying to out-scare each other until Hawk or his dad would stick their heads out of their tents telling them to go to sleep. He enjoyed those times out of doors.

The lighting in the cave reminded him of those times. The lantern put out enough light to see by, but it was still fairly dark. Even the firelight didn't help much. "Was it always this dark?"

She nodded. "I never knew how terrifying the dark was until I was here."

Terrifying? "What do you mean?"

"In Volcania, there were always lights. Even in the darkest places, there were computers and machinery with indicator lights… there wasn't anywhere there that was dark. Even our personal quarters had a dim work light glowing at all times. When I was traveling here in that transport, there was a light inside it that never shut off, even when I stopped to sleep. But, here, there were no lights. Whatever towns or settlements were down in the valley, they were miles away. You couldn't see any light from them through the fog that settled every night." She took a shuddering breath. "I never knew what total darkness was. I never had any idea that it could be so terrifying. I would hear every noise outside. There were so many I couldn't identify. Now, I know they're the noises certain animals make, but then? I don't think I slept a full hour for weeks after I got here."

Darkness. Jon used to love the dark when he was a boy, but Jennifer hadn't been scared of the dark – she had been terrified of what was _in the dark_. Alone, in a cave, in the dark, hunted… did Jennifer have nightmares about that time?

Jon didn't want her to stop talking, but he sensed that this was a subject she was finished with. Instead, he tried a different tact. "It was colder outside when we found you that January. Did the wind-up heater keep the cave warm?"

"Warm but not warm enough. I usually wore all the clothes when I was here to keep warm. That morning, I was trying to find ways to hide some handmade weapons in the jacket, and I hadn't put on the rest of the clothes when I thought I heard the trap catch something."

That was why she was only wearing the youth leader uniform when they'd met. Odd, but those little details that seemed unimportant to her were of profound interest to Jon. Learning about every moment she'd spent there, every ordeal, every revelation that filled her life during that time became very important to Jon. He didn't want to push her though. She'd tell him when she was ready or when she thought the topic was relevant.

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't coax a few bits of general information from her. She didn't seem to mind when he asked general questions.

"How did you keep from getting bored at night or when it was storming?" he asked, knowing that long stretches of time with nothing to do preyed on Jennifer's patience.

"I had my little mysteries to think about," she told him. She pointed up toward the walls and the ceiling. "What do you see?"

Jon looked around the cave; really looked at it for the first time. There were old carvings in the walls and ceilings. He could make out some of them. Dates going back at least two hundred years, countless nicknames, simple markings to denote the fact that someone had been there once upon a time.

"I didn't know what they were for so I would imagine all kinds of scenarios why someone would carve pictures in stone," she explained. She glanced at Jon's look of surprise at her words. "I know, imagining anything wasn't something the caretakers taught us in the Dread Youth, but it seems that once I broke through the conditioning, all sorts of ideas started to come to mind. I found myself being curious about anything and everything. Like this. I didn't know why anyone would carve their names in stone. No one would know who they were or why they were here. Someone would just wonder about the people who carved the names."

Forgotten people. No, no one would know who the carvers were, but they would know that someone passed through the cave. A living breathing person with hopes and dreams and the desire to be remembered had left a small bit of themselves in a cave so someone in the future could gaze and ponder.

"They wanted to leave a mark," he surmised. "Let the world know that they lived and they loved." Jon pointed out one carving in particular. He'd seen countless other carvings just like it in his youth, but it was the only one of its kind in the cave. Some of it had crumbled away, but Jon could make out the outer design: a heart with a cross inside and initials on the four corners of the cross. The cave was probably used for more than just a hideout for people escaping biomechs. "Looks like at least one couple found this cave and left their mark."

Jennifer chuckled. "I had to ask Mentor what that symbol meant. A human heart doesn't look like that, and what did a cross with letters that don't correspond to directions mean?"

"Oh, I think they indicate a direction, just not geographically." It was a symbol that showed the direction the heart was going. "And those are two people's initials. Probably some young couple found this place and came here to be alone."

Thunder and lightning began to roll by again, this time even closer. Dust shook from the ceiling and landed in the fire, making it sputter and start to flame out. Jennifer added more firewood and watched the flames leap up again. Then she snuggled back under the jacket, back under his arm and leaned against him. "Maybe this cave was more comfortable one hundred years ago?" she suggested. "It just seems dark and gloomy to me."

"Maybe it's too many bad memories connected to it?" Jon suggested.

"Could be, but it's nice to know some good memories got made here, even if no one knows who it was."

Good memories made by people who loved each other who came here to be away from prying eyes. People could talk without anyone overhearing. Secrets could be shared or thoughts could be confirmed.

There was one thought that had been running through his mind that he needed confirmation on.

"Jennifer," Jon gently tilted her head up so he could see into her eyes. He had to know. He didn't want to guess. He didn't want to assume. He had to know. "I wish I had been able to walk with you to the water station. If I'd been there, maybe they wouldn't have focused on you. They would have seen two resistance fighters needing help instead… but what you did at Oasis… you put your life in the hands of strangers just to get help to me."

"You were hurt. Soaron was still in the area. I never considered Blastarr could be nearby as backup. If I hadn't agreed –"

Jon leaned a little closer, his hand never moving from her. "No, Jennifer, what you did for me, I'm not worth you giving up your life to people who don't know the truth about the Dread Youth. They don't know what you saw, what you went through… how you learned the truth." He gently pushed the wayward strand of hair away from her face. "You're too important to risk your life for me like that."

Jennifer reached up and took Jon's hand. "No I'm not. I'm a soldier, just like you, and like you said, sometimes we have to do the right thing regardless if it's the right choice. We risk our lives fighting biomechs and biodreads. Any of us know that we might not come back from a mission. I'm no more important than anyone else."

Jon shook his head with a slight smile. "You're important to me, but you didn't make that agreement because of a biodread being out here, did you? Was there another reason?"

She didn't say anything. Jon gently cupped her cheek, his thumb lying close to the wound at the corner of her mouth. "Jennifer?"

"I couldn't let anything happen to you," she said lowly. She looked down and saw Jon's leg shaking a bit. Her voice took on an edge, as if she was trying to change the subject. "You shouldn't have pushed that leg the way you did. It couldn't –"

"Blastarr was heading to Oasis, and I couldn't let anything happen to _you_," he told her, his voice just as low. He couldn't move his gaze from her eyes. What he saw reflected there… no, he wasn't guessing any longer. He wasn't assuming. He wasn't hoping. There was no need.

He leaned toward her and tenderly kissed her on the cheek.

No, there was no doubt, not anymore.

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jennifer closed her eyes when she felt him touch her cheek. She felt his nose brush against her skin as he sat back a little.

He kissed her.

He kissed her?

He kissed her!

She opened her eyes to find him looking back at her, a small smile on his face. That was not a goodbye kiss, a hello kiss, a congratulatory kiss, or a good luck kiss. It was not a kiss shared by two friends.

It was not an inappropriate kiss.

The look in his eyes, the way he held her, there was nothing confusing about what she was feeling.

And Jon?

No, there was no doubt how he felt about her anymore.

She closed her eyes again when he kissed her a second time, close to the wound near her mouth.

There were butterflies in her stomach. She'd heard the expression before, but she had never felt the sensation until that moment. She didn't know if it was excitement, surprise, confusion, anticipation or exultation. In that moment, she felt like she was going to burst in twenty directions at once.

The look in his eyes – she had told him all of it. All that she hated to think about, all that she never said aloud, all the secrets she tormented herself with, he understood. That was the one thing Jennifer had wondered about - could anyone understand what had happened? How could anyone hear about some of her darkest secrets, her deepest regrets, and not turn away from her in disgust?

Jon didn't turn away.

But right then, at that moment, several barriers between her and Jon had been shattered. She didn't know where they were going to go from there, but at least she knew how he felt at that moment. A kiss wasn't simple by definition. Neither was the way he held her. He truly cared.

~J~U~D~G~M~E~N~T~

Jon knew.

Jennifer knew.

A particular boundary had been ripped to shreds. Looking into her eyes, Jon could see that there was still so much hidden inside of her. She had told them so much, had shared so much of her life with them, but there was much more that she still had to face. Some of it, she might not be aware of. She'd reveal more as she grew more comfortable with him, but more importantly, with herself.

She could trust him. She knew that. He was the only one she shared her deep dark secrets with, and he held on to those secrets until she felt comfortable letting the others know. He was her confidante, and he looked forward to each and every moment she was willing to share with him.

"If there's ever anything else you want to talk about, no matter what it is, you know I'll listen," he told her as he brushed his fingers along the strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail and framed her face.

She nodded. "I never wanted anyone to know about everything that happened there," she told him. "The promotion, what I did, why I did it –"

"I know," he told her. "What happened ripped you apart inside. It's hurt you all these years, and what you know now has made it worse," Jon agreed. How could he say this? She had never denied what happened or her part in it. She always took the blame on herself. "The fact that what happened hurts you to this day is all the proof you need that you're a good person, and I really like the person you've become. It's someone I want to know more about." Then, he said in a lower voice, "I want to know everything – when you want me to know it."

There it was, that smile of hers. The one that reached her eyes and let Jon get a glimpse into her soul.

He also knew that the boundary they had ripped through was as far as either were going to go at that moment. No more boundaries would be approached. He wasn't going to go any further. He didn't move away though. He kept his arm around her, keeping her warm, keeping him warm.

Jon glanced up at the ceiling again. "So, after pondering the mysteries of the drawings, what else did you do to pass the time in here?" Another loud rumble of thunder rolled overhead.

"We don't have a hat or a deck of cards," Jennifer mused. She looked around… "But –" She pulled her arm out from under the jacket and picked up pieces of rock. Immediately, Jon noticed the pieces were light and dark. She then drew a 64-checkered square in the dirt between them with her finger. "Then, I didn't have much to keep me busy, but I think we can improvise a chess game. Or maybe checkers. Want the dark or the light pieces of rock?"

**Power Base: Late In The Afternoon**

"You two had us worried!" Hawk called out as he rushed into the landing bay. What he saw were two tired, dusty, individuals climbing off a damaged sky bike without landing pads. "That looks bad," he pointed toward the bike.

"Compliments of Soaron," Jon told him as Jennifer handed Hawk the data disk.

Hawk caught a glance at Jon's leg. "That looks worse."

"Still compliments of Soaron," Jennifer explained. "How's my jump ship?"

"Perfect," Hawk assured her, noticing for the first time she was wearing a rather worn out jacket that he'd never seen before. It was too many sizes too big for her. Maybe it was for Tank? "It's working, it's humming along, there's not a vibration to be felt."

Hawk saw an amused glance pass between Jon and Jennifer, but there was something different about the look they shared. Something… very different. It was more relaxed, more personally expressive. It made Hawk think that maybe he shouldn't be looking. There was an ease between the two that wasn't there before they left. Something had happened that went beyond the tribunal at Oasis. Whatever it was that was bothering Jennifer either wasn't bothering her anymore or they had been able to talk it out. Whatever happened on the mission, the 'something' that had been between them had been replaced by 'something else.' Or maybe whatever was the 'something' was had been removed? He'd have to figure that out by observing them.

Jon tossed Hawk a small metal box. "Here, we brought you something."

Hawk opened the box… "Jack in the boxes without the jacks! My dad used to use these!" He picked up the wind-up flashlight. "My dad had one of these. Carried it for years. Said it was his good luck charm." He then picked up the small heater. "And this gadget? It'll keep you from freezing to death, but it won't keep you really warm... the spring's busted in this one. Hey, you two were in the mountains, and it's wintertime. Did this heater work?"

"We lit a fire," Jon told him.

Hawk was grinning like a kid on Christmas morning as he inspected the jack-in-the-boxes-without-the-jacks again. "Where did you get these?"

"Found them," Jennifer told him. "Jon thought that you might like to have them."

Hawk couldn't stop smiling. Then, he looked up and saw how those two were moving – not well. That fight with Soaron and with Blastarr really took a toll on them. "Okay, you two get to the infirmary and let me make sure you're all right. And you," he looked at Jennifer, "you need to get some sleep. You look like you walked miles through the desert."

"I did," she told him.

Hawk's sharp eye noticed the bruises. There was something oddly familiar about the pattern. "Did you go a few rounds with Blastarr? Personally?"

"Just one or two."

"She won," Jon interjected.

"Okay, exactly how beat up are you two?"

"Sore muscles from a crash and getting shot at by Blastarr," Jennifer told him.

"I was knocked out once, she was knocked out twice," Jon added.

"Jon's leg needs medical attention," Jennifer pointed out.

Hawk looked at Jennifer, then at Jon, then back to Jennifer again. "I'm guessing this debriefing is going to be rather interesting?"

"It won't be boring," Jon told him.

Hawk just shrugged and shook his head. "Okay. See you in the infirmary. I'll get Scout and Tank started working on this bike. Scout will not going to be happy. He's going to have to rig up completely new landing pads for this one."

Hawk turned and walked back toward the control room, but before he left the landing bay, he turned back and looked at his prodigal twosome who had returned home. Jon placed a hand on the bike's seat and leaned toward Jennifer. He heard Jon ask, "Would you really have carried me all those miles through the desert?"

The End


	28. Chapter 17 A Summoning Of Thunder

_**Author's Notes: **__The plot bunny for this tag wanted to fight me on it, whisker and tail. Big thanks to Kazthom for helping me out on this one. :) _

**Episode 17 - Summoning of Thunder**

_Jon's yearly visit to his father's memorial forces past mysteries and present concerns to collide with future desires._

~o~o~o~o~o~

**Power Base - Nighttime**

In 1889, Oscar Wilde wrote that 'life imitates art far more than art imitates life.' It was a cliché that Jon had found it to be true. Real life embraced art in all its forms, absorbed the vernacular, created euphemisms that paralleled moments - basically, life was influenced by the very artwork it created. Take sports, for example. Sports were an art form. They didn't use a paint brush or a hammer and chisel. No, sports were an art form that involved skill and physical ability and mental prowess. There were rules and procedures, processes and expectations. There was a structure and a style that could be appreciated by the viewer, an understanding of what was going on by the population at large. Even more, there was a connection between what happened in a sport and real life. One such connection was the unique way sports verbiage crept into the everyday language. Sayings like 'Win one for the Gipper' or 'We knocked it out of the park' or 'They talk a good game' were common phrases. Maybe Oscar Wilde could have written that 'life imitates sports far more than sports imitate life?' It would have been just as accurate.

Baseball clichés ran rampant around the Power household. There was a simple explanation why - it was a sport the entire family enjoyed. When Jon was a boy, he played on his local Little League team and his junior high baseball team. His dad would get season tickets for the home games every year, and they never missed a World Series no matter who was competing or where it was being held. His mother could quote players' stats with incredible clarity. One habit she had was to use baseball analogies to make a point. There was one saying she repeated in particular that he'd forgotten over the years. What Jon had learned at Oasis reminded him of it, and it summed up his feelings after recent events. "At first, you think you understand how things are in the world. Then life throws you a curveball that knocks you off your game."

That's how Jon felt. Completely knocked off his game.

The feeling had come on gradually over the last few months. It had nothing to do with the fact that the anniversary of his father's death reminded him that he had been fighting battles for fifteen years. It had nothing to do with fighting tactics not working. It had nothing to do with Dread escalating the war.

No, it all came down to discovering some hidden truths. Over the last several months, he had learned more about the details and less about the fiction surrounding the wars. The more he learned, the more he realized he didn't know.

Professional truths -

Personal truths -

He had questions but no answers. When he visited his father's memorial, he'd tried to talk out his confusion with his father, but as always, there were no answers.

"_Hi, Dad._

_Sorry I haven't been here in a year. Dread's been ramping up the war lately. We've had a lot of successes though. We keep tossing a wrench into the works, but he keeps coming back with something more devastating and devious."_

_Jon listened to the relative quiet of the site. A gentle wind blew through the leaves of the small tree above him. Ripples in the lake casually slapped against the rocks on the shoreline. _

"_Lately, I've been finding out things I never knew about that happened before you were killed. I don't know how it could have been missed. How much did you know about what Taggart was doing? Did you know anything at all?"_

_Again, he was met with silence. _

"_I remember when you were building the base and when you were trying to build up the resources there, you were so focused on the job. You didn't have any distractions, at least, I thought you didn't. Then I started to remember how you would take an hour every night and we'd talk. We talked about everything. Memories mostly about Mom and the ordinary things we did before the wars got so bad. As crazy as our lives were then, you tried to give me a small bit of time every day to still be a teenager. I never realized before how much that meant to me or how difficult it was for you to just stop working and preparing to fight. For a long time, it felt like that's all I did. Work, I mean."_

_Jon waited, but there was no response. _

"_Lately, Dad, I've found out why it's important to take some time out for myself. You see, there's someone... a lady. A special lady. I think you'd like her. Well, things are changing between us, and I like spending time with her. I taught her how to play chess, and she can beat me practically every time now. I've had to study some pretty complicated chess moves just to stand a chance against her. She's a natural at tactics and strategy. Plus, she knows me so it makes it easier for her to beat me. I like her. I've never even thought that about someone before. I don't know where it'll lead, but..."_

_He had never said what he wanted to say out loud. Never before. It took him a few moments to gather his thoughts._

"_She's special, Dad. And we're in the middle of a war that takes up practically all our time. Dread is getting deadlier - I've dedicated my life to stopping Dread, no matter what it costs me. I know that the chances of any Resistance soldier making it through this war isn't good and getting involved with someone is setting yourself up for a fall. The thing is I don't really know what to do. I mean, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if it's the right thing. My focus has been on stopping Dread for fifteen years. It's been my sole focus. Hawk and I have a team that's almost designed to fight Dread. We have a chance, but I keep thinking that if I let myself be happy in any way, I'll lose this anger I've got for Dread. I think I'd lose my focus, but then when I realize what Dread's done, what he did to her and what I could lose, I want to stop Dread all the more."_

_More silence. No answers._

"_I really need your advice on this one. I think Hawk is up to something when it comes to me and Jennifer, but I haven't quite put my finger on it. He's said some things that make me think he knows things have changed between us, but he's keeping a distance. I guess he's letting us find our own way."_

_He checked his chronometer. It was getting late. He needed to go._

___"__I miss you, Dad. I miss your wisdom. I miss having you to talk to. It's never been the same." He hesitated a moment, then added, "Hawk sends his best." _

"_Bye, Dad."_

So many questions, so few answers - life had thrown him curveball after curveball, and all he'd done so far is batter up. It was time to swing and hope he didn't miss.

"Captain, I've found something interesting," Mentor said.

Jon looked up at the hologram. "Show me."

Within moments, words began to scroll on the monitor -

_**Pursuant to Presidential Executive Order 28967, to be classified Top Secret:**_

_By the authority vested in the Consortium of Countries by the International Constitution and the Laws agreed upon therein, and in order to establish a cooperative and productive form of war control and eventual peaceful relations among the warring nations, it is hereby ordered that:_

_**Section 1.**__ The designated military base and surrounding areas heretofore to be recognized as Groom Lake are hereby temporarily assigned to the persons known as Doctor Stuart Power and Doctor Lyman Taggart for the purposes of designing, constructing, testing and maintaining a computerized system necessary for the control of all war machines._

_**Section 2**__. Financial resources, any and all necessary equipment, land, buildings, security clearances, personnel, material resources, and additional required materials necessary in the pursuance of the stated goals in Section 1 of Presidential Executive Order 28967 will be immediately granted to Doctor Stuart Power and Doctor Lyman Taggart without restriction._

_**Section 3**__. The corporate entities owned by Doctor Lyman Taggart, legally designated as Taggart Industries and its subsidiaries, either existing or future acquisitions, will remain in the sole possession of Lyman Taggart. As per employment agreement with Doctor Lyman Taggart, any and all federal restrictions, regulations and taxations will be removed for the period of ten years in exchange for a salaried income for pursuing the stated goals of Presidential Order 28967 as stated in Section 1. Henceforth, Taggart Industries will exist as a living entity without governmental, federal, state or local oversight._

_**Section 4...**_

_**Section 5..**__._

_**Section 6...**_

Those were the beginning sections of a long, tedious multi-paged pseudo-encyclopedia of legalese. That was not a language Jon was familiar with or comfortable trying to decipher. He gave up after Section 6.

"Mentor, how long is this document?" Jon asked.

The hologram looked thoughtful for a moment, then answered, "Fifty-seven sections with a variety of addendums. There are some sections regarding properties owned or ceded to Doctor Stuart Power. They were free of oversight as well."

_"Exist as a living entity without governmental, federal, state or local oversight,"_ Jon frowned at that revelation as he read it aloud. "The government gave Area 51 to Dad and Taggart to build Overmind, but Dad had his own property as well?"

"There's a listing of businesses that were put into your father's name by the Consortium in an attached document."

"What kind of businesses?" Jon's curiosity was definitely piqued.

"The list includes computer manufacturing companies, construction companies, engineering firms, design facilities, software and program designing companies –"

"Sounds like every kind of business he'd need to build a base without Dread knowing about it," Jon muttered.

"It would appear that both Doctor Power and Doctor Taggart had whatever resources necessary to build bases or establish any type of facility necessary without anyone's knowledge."

Without anyone's knowledge? How could anyone not know? Massive movements of people and equipment, and all operating under everybody's nose? "Strange," he muttered out loud.

"What's strange, Captain?"

Jon looked up at his father's image. "That the entire world could get turned into a mechanized dumping ground and nobody realized what was happening when it was happening. Okay, let's start this search from a different tact. Is there a list of Dread's companies?"

"No, Captain. Given the wording of the documents attached to the Executive Order, they only pertain to your father's holdings. If I were to use that as a basis for an assumption, it might be reasonable to assume that Doctor Taggart had a copy of the Presidential Order and attached documents that related only to him."

That sounded strange. "There's nothing in the documentation we have indicating Dread's property?"

"Nothing more than what's already been stated," Mentor explained. "Your father did try to access the complete documentation a few months before he was killed, but the information was lost."

"So Dad didn't know what Dread had." Jon thought for a moment. "Then that could mean that Dread has no idea what Dad's resources were."

"It would explain how Dread had no knowledge of the property title transfer of Colorado Springs and the surrounding areas to your father. If he had, then he would have searched this area for the Power Base long ago."

Yes, it would explain - wait - "Mentor, did you say Colorado Springs? Don't you mean just the property necessary for this base?"

The hologram almost smiled. "No, Captain. I mean all of Colorado Springs and the surrounding areas. After NORAD and all land within a one hundred mile radius was ceded to Doctor Power, all territories were integrated into the scientific/military structure reclassified as Fort Stonewall under the command of General Terence Wakeley. Some years earlier, a new mandate was sent down from Washington establishing a new set of architectural rules for such city-integrated forts, and the first step was to construct a thick concrete wall around the perimeter of the property as the first line of defense. That would indicate the boundary of the specific region given to your father, but I doubt if much of the wall surrounding this area remains now."

Jon doubted it too, not that a concrete wall was of any real importance those days.

"Captain, if I may ask, why is knowing about Lyman Taggart's holdings so important at this time?"

Looking up at the hologram, Jon could see a slight shadow of his father's personality there. It was the type of question he would have asked a young Jon. "It may not be important or it may be the key to everything, Mentor. I don't know. Over the last few months, I've learned that things were going on that I had no knowledge of. Taggart was working behind the scenes to gain all sorts of political and financial power. He took over businesses that he used later on when he became Dread. I just want to know the truth."

No, he wanted more than the truth. He wanted answers. Bit by bit, he had seen things that made him question his preconceived ideas about... everything.

What had started his journey of questions?

Easy - it was the mysteries behind the Dread Youth, mysteries that he didn't even know existed that were the beginning.

He didn't think that the few bits of information from Jennifer's past would have been the same for all Dread Youth. Not all of them would have been taken as children, would they? Some would have been older? Some would have signed up? Where had they come from? How could they have appeared on those early battlefields without anyone knowing of their existence before Taggart merged with Overmind? So many of them with blonde hair and gray eyes...

It was trying to decipher the enigmatic history of the Dread Youth that made Jon question his understandings. The idea that conditioning could be broken like Jennifer had done, the fact that Jennifer could fight someone Tank's size and win, the mystery about how all the Dread Youth looked alike - there had been no real answers, but it all came to a head in Oasis. When Jon learned that mind control techniques used at a lab Dread took over were used on the Dread Youth, he needed answers. He wanted to find out more about how Dread came to power, how he used that power to destroy lives. He wanted to know if it was possible to set some things right.

Yet there was more to it than just wanting answers. The more Jon thought about the past, the more he had begun to believe that the history of the Dread Youth was the key to finding the information of Dread's powerbase before the wars began. Somehow, they were tied together.

Yet there was one other consideration, another reason Jon wanted to find out about how Dread came to power and how the Dread Youth came to exist. He wanted to be able to give Jennifer answers about her past. Maybe she didn't ask the questions very often, but Jon had no doubt that she wanted more answers than she had.

He was beginning to appreciate night duty more. What was it Jennifer had told him once? _Someone can talk to Mentor with no one interrupting or eavesdropping_. Someone could indulge in more than just personal intellectual pursuits and Mentor would always keep it a secret. In fact, Mentor was good about keeping secrets, like the present they were making for Jennifer.

"Do we have any linear data about that time, Mentor? Some kind of timeline we can follow?"

Again, the hologram looked thoughtful. "My records show that Doctor Power was in the process of gathering data from a variety of sources such as digital newspapers, magazines and government documents concerning such information in the months before his death. I have no data of its whereabouts or if he was successful in acquiring it."

Wait, newspapers? Magazines? That sparked a memory. "I think I do."

~o~o~o~o~o~

**Morning – Next Day**

Hawk had the morning duty, so Jon was happy to relinquish the control room to him. After sitting and studying documents all night, he needed to stretch his legs.

"Scout's making breakfast this morning," Hawk told him before he left the room.

Jon turned back to his friend. "Scout? I thought it was Tank's turn."

"It was," Hawk said with a laugh. "Scout lost a bet."

A bet? "Dare I ask?" Jon wanted to know.

Hawk shook his head. "It's better if you don't."

"Right," Jon smiled as he slightly waved and walked out of the room. To tell the truth, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. Hawk, Scout and Tank had found new ways to amuse themselves recently, and the bet over the last few weeks seemed to be that the loser cooked the meals. In fact, Jon couldn't remember the last time he'd been assigned to cook a meal, Jennifer either.

Three of his team were up to something. Scout was cooking breakfast? He lost a bet to Tank? Hawk was grinning like a Cheshire cat? Jon was right the first time - maybe he didn't want to know what they were doing. Whatever it was, it was working. He hadn't seen his team this happy in a long time. They had a diversion, some happy changes in their lives and that was a rare thing in wartime. He was enjoying the changes he was experiencing in his relationship with Jennifer even if he wasn't exactly sure where those changes would take them.

Life was like that. Everything changed, some for the better, some for the worst.

Jon's mind went back to the problem he was currently wrestling with as he walked toward one of the unused storage rooms. For fifteen years, he thought he knew the truth. He saw the past as a simple, linear course of events that really started the war.

Stuart and Taggart built Overmind, they designed a variety of robots to protect Overmind in the event of an attack, Taggart merged his mind with Overmind one night, biomechs marched over the entire planet, Stuart was killed in the explosion at Volcania while Taggart was badly injured and turned into the half-machine Lord Dread. After that, it was a whole new war they had to fight.

That was it. That's how he remembered it all started.

Simple. Clean. A neat focus on which to fight and a stream of connected events powerful enough to build resistance armies.

But now… things weren't so simple. His memories weren't the truth. There was more to the story.

He opened an access door and noticed the dust on the floor. They didn't use this section of the base. It wasn't needed, so there was never any traffic there. He hadn't been down there in years himself. Maybe they should consider using it? A few of the rooms were big enough to be rec rooms. They could always use a little more diversion in their lives. They took their work entirely too seriously and needed a break from time to time.

Maybe that was an answer to one of his questions he'd asked his dad at the memorial site.

Rec rooms in the Power Base. That thought amused him. He wondered if Volcania had rec rooms. He didn't think they did since Jennifer hadn't mentioned downtime for the Dread Youth.

As he walked down the corridor toward the storage room, he had a curious thought about Volcania. How had it become such a massive construction in the first place?

Taggart had turned himself into a robber baron of sorts by buying up various businesses and laboratories years before Taggart merged with Overmind. That would have given him a fortune to start building an empire with. Volcania now existed where Detroit once stood. If Stuart had been ceded Colorado Springs, did the government give Detroit to Taggart? The fortress was huge and was always undergoing expanding construction. Currently, the main structure itself was nearly thirty miles wide, thirty miles long with the outerlying facilities expanding for miles away from the fortress. Fifteen years earlier, it had been approximately twelve miles wide by almost nine miles long. The city itself, several small towns, the buildings, the highways, the bridges, the infrastructures had all been consolidated into a massive solidly connected edifice. Jon had never wondered how Taggart completed that much construction in such a short amount of time or how he got the funding. He'd also believed that Stuart had been given everything he needed from the president and the Joint Chiefs to build the Power Base, but that wasn't quite the truth. Without any kind of oversight, there was a multitude of financial wells Taggart could plumb to fund his empire-building.

But even knowing that didn't answer all the new questions he had.

Hawk once told Jon of a conversation he had with Stuart. Jon's dad had asked, "How'd it go so wrong, Matt?"

How _had_ it gone so wrong? _When_ did it start going wrong? How did anyone not see what was happening?

Could knowing how it all started be the key to figuring out a way to stop it?

All these questions led Jon to one conclusion: he had to go "back" to the time before it had all started and find out when it all started and how it could have all gone wrong.

He finally reached the storage room. He had seen the boxes filled with old newspapers and magazines in there years earlier, but he'd never really taken a good look through them. Maybe, just maybe, some of the answers he was looking for were in there.

~o~o~o~o~o~

**Late Afternoon**

Fifteen years.

To Hawk, it hadn't seemed like fifteen years had passed since Stuart was killed or since his own family had been murdered. It seemed like only yesterday. Time had flowed like quicksilver.

The fifteen years had taken their toll. When Hawk looked in the mirror, he saw an older man with thinning hair and a thickening middle. He was still in good shape physically. He could still fight and fly, but in another place and time, Hawk would have been ordered off field duty and given a desk job or a training assignment. After all the wars, after the annihilations, after civilization caved in on itself, there were no "age restrictions" on any job anymore, but he was feeling his age more and more. Then, after meeting Vi months earlier, he realized exactly how much time had passed. He wasn't a young man anymore.

Yet his life hadn't been empty. He had helped raise his best friend's son after Stuart was killed. It was just the two of them at the Power Base since everyone else had left before Stuart had ordered the base lockdown in response to 'Taggart's threat. They had planned on bringing Joanna, Mitch and Katie to the Power Base to stay safe since it was locked down, but within a day of the explosion in Volcania, Overmind ordered hundreds of towns and cities all over the globe to be destroyed along with the people in them. When Hawk had first heard that his wife and children were gone, he didn't know what to do. He felt like he was splitting into pieces from the inside. He had nowhere to go and no way to vent his anger. He secluded himself away in the landing bay and worked on the jumpship. He could hammer metal and rip apart circuits until he worked out some of his frustration. Sometimes, the anger would get the best of him and the jumpship would bear the brunt of his emotions. During one particularly loud tirade, Jon placed his hand on Hawk's shoulder. Hawk glanced up and saw Jon looking back at him, understanding that they had both lost everyone and everything, but they were still alive. They would be each other's family.

In those fifteen years, Hawk saw Jon grow from a remarkable young man to an extraordinary grown man. He watched Jon take his grief and his anger over Stuart's death and pour it into creating something good – the Power Team. Hawk had never seen anyone become so dedicated to the collection of knowledge as Jon had. Every bit of knowledge he learned was used to try to save the human race itself. He couldn't have been prouder of Jon if he had been his own son.

During those years, Jon had taken his father's research and expanded on it. He'd advanced the power suit technology past anything Stuart may have ever dreamed of. He'd put together a team that was the bane of Dread's existence and had helped protect what remained of civilization on the North American continent. Jon was very much a stubborn young man who wanted to do things his own way, but he always listened to Hawk's advice. Their father/son relationship had grown over those years. Still, Hawk always wondered if he'd done right by Jon while he was growing up. The saying "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy" was not something Hawk wanted to see happen to the boy. He wanted Jon to have a life of some sort, some recreation, some relationships – heck, the boy needed some fun. He was entirely too serious for his own good. Hawk would take him to various outposts and bases when they had some free time, and Jon was able to interact with people his own age. When he wasn't looking for people to make up the team he had envisioned, he was having some fun. He made friends, met young ladies and took advantage of whatever forms of recreations the outposts had. Sometimes, they had dances, sometimes sports. Hawk wasn't the only parent trying to give the younger generation some feeling that not all was lost.

When Tank had joined them, he had suggested adding a little more fun into their daily lives, but not much changed. When Scout joined, he had an infectiously happy personality that almost forced their fledgling team into more social occasions. That was when Hawk saw a real change in Jon. He would smile and enjoy himself for a few hours those few times they could go on R&R.

When Jennifer joined the team, they undertook an all-out effort to introduce her to life. Showing her all the fun, all the happy, all the colors and all the sounds that Dread had destroyed become a goal for the team. Over the years, Hawk had seen Jon relax more and be a 'regular guy' from time to time, but lately, when Jon was with Jennifer and they didn't know Hawk could see them, he saw his foster son actually happy for the first time in years.

But when Jon and Jennifer returned from Oasis, Hawk saw a subtle change in his young friends. In the landing bay, he saw that Jon and Jennifer weren't hiding their feelings from each other anymore, but they weren't quite open about their feelings with anyone else. Hawk didn't know what was said between them, but whatever it was, it gave him hope for a future for the two young people.

Jon was happier. Serious, always watching out for any action by Dread, but he wasn't consumed with the war. For weeks, Hawk saw a much more relaxed Jon. That was something he never thought he'd see. Jennifer? There was a subtle difference in her behavior as well. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe she was a hint more outgoing? No, that wasn't right. More relaxed? No, not that either. Whatever it was, Hawk had noticed a difference.

Then came the anniversary of Stuart's death. Jon was reminded of what he had lost and what he could lose if they didn't stop Dread, and Jon began exhibiting some old behavior. Every year, Jon would talk himself out of going. Why pour salt into a wound? Did going to a memorial and talking to his dad actually work? Stuart wasn't there. He'd been killed in the Volcania explosion. Then, for reasons only he knew, Jon would get his gear and his gun and fly the jet out to the memorial.

The past held its share of secrets, that was certain. Every member of the team had their own secrets that they didn't share for whatever reason. One secret Jon held onto, one that only Hawk knew, was the location of Stuart's memorial and the exact date of his death.

It was personal. It was private. It was something of his that he could hold onto and no one could take away from him.

Hawk thought that Jon wouldn't go that year. He wouldn't drag himself down into that emotional quagmire again, but whatever it was that drove him to visit the grave was pushing him to go that year as well. Usually, Jon could sneak out before anyone other than Hawk saw him leave, but this year, Jennifer had walked into the control room just as Jon turned to go. Hawk saw the look Jon gave her. He could almost read the thought that crossed Jon's mind – Jennifer was someone else he could lose if Dread wasn't stopped.

It was no secret that Jon disappeared on the same day every year. The others thought it was for personal reasons, a personal anniversary of some sort and accepted that as the explanation. This time, for the first time, Jennifer asked, "Where does he go?"

"Back," Hawk answered, noticing that Jennifer didn't ask for further explanation. Yet she asked - another indication that her and Jon's relationship had changed. She felt confident enough to ask the question but not ask for details.

Back. If they could turn back time and change history, none of them would have lost what they did.

Back. That was explanation enough. No one would ask anything else.

Jon had stayed less than an hour at the memorial and had left just as Mentor picked up two aircraft heading to the area. Hawk never knew what Jon told Stuart. Then again, when Hawk visited the secret memorial he had for his wife and children, he never told anyone what he said to them. Some things needed to remain private.

He hoped Jon told Stuart about Jennifer.

The yearly visit seemed to ground Jon to a certain extent. His outlook on the war and his determination to stop Dread usually seemed recharged. This time… something was different. Jon seemed less grounded and more introspective. Something was different on this trip, and he hadn't been acting like himself since he returned.

That was two days ago.

Hawk wasn't just a major on a resistance team. He was also the surrogate father to the man who ran the team. It was his responsibility to find out what was going on. Besides, if he didn't, Scout and Tank would pester him to find out what was wrong with Jon and that it had better not have anything to do with Jennifer. After all they'd done to nudge the two together, the last thing anyone wanted to see was something coming between them.

Hawk reached Jon's quarters and knocked. He waited, then knocked again. Finally, Jon said 'Enter' and Hawk opened the door. It wasn't the first time he had come in to find the room a disaster area, but the last time was when Jon was about seventeen years old. They had suffered several losses against Dread and Jon had lost his temper. His quarters had borne the brunt of it and Jon's baseball bat.

But this disaster? It was a systematically organized mess of strewn paperwork and old magazines and newspapers.

It was research.

Jon sat in the middle of the floor, looking over page after page as if looking for some obscure clue.

"Do I want to know?"

Jon looked up at Hawk and shrugged. "Life threw me a curveball, and I'm not sure how bad it is yet. I don't know exactly what I'm looking for. What's up?"

Excuse. He needed an excuse. "Uh, information on the latest troop movements on the east coast just came in. Mentor's studying the numbers, but he doesn't think there's much there. It looks like Dread is redeploying his resources."

Jon looked back at the old newspaper in his hands. "Redeploying them where?"

"He's moving them west at the moment. We'll know where soon enough," Hawk explained, wondering what Jon was looking for.

"He probably thinks that he needs more troops in the western regions. Jennifer and I found out there aren't many out there," Jon mused quietly.

"Where did you get all this?" Hawk asked. "There haven't been paper magazines or physical newspapers in over 100 years. Everything was digital."

"I think Dad got them on paper in case we lost our digital libraries. I've seen these down in the storage rooms for years, but I never looked through them. Oh, I found something you might be interested in," he said as he reached over and pulled a newspaper picture out from under a stack of papers. He handed it to Hawk with a grin.

Hawk glanced at the photo of three happy kids waving at whoever took their picture. "Printout of the local paper with you, Mitch and Katie in your Little League uniforms." Hawk remembered the day that picture was taken. Their team had just won the playoffs. Katie had caught the game-winning out, Mitch had hit a grand slam and Jon had played catcher that time. "Morgana took that picture and sent it in to the paper, I think," Hawk suddenly remembered. The kids had kept goofing around and not standing still until….

There, just to the side of the picture and not really in focus, stood Lyman Taggart next to Stuart. Both were a bit blurry, but Hawk remembered how Taggart had made some jokes and gotten the kids' attention and then promised to buy everyone ice cream if they stood still for a few seconds so Morgana could take the picture. Joanna had commented that if the kids ate all the ice cream Lyman promised them, they'd be three times their size.

It had been a fun day - one of the last fun days they all had together before the wars encompassed the entire globe. Before Taggart began to become obsessed with power and immortality. Before everything started to change.

"Score was 20 to 14," Hawk said proudly. "You three did a good job that day."

"It was teamwork," Jon quipped as put the newspaper in a particular pile.

Hawk watched Jon glance at the piles, wondering what he was looking for. "Okay, I give up. Either tell me what's bothering you or I'm going to start a recycling drive. Or maybe a bonfire." He glanced down at the nearest pile. The magazine was dated June 2125. What was so important about twenty-two year old newspapers? Something nudged at his memory. "Wait a minute, I remember these now. Stuart sent the archives a list of papers and magazines he wanted to look through while we were building the base. This is them?"

Jon stood up and stretched his back a bit. Obviously, he'd been sitting there a while. "Yeah. They were still in the original boxes down in storage. I think he was looking for something…"

"And now you are," Hawk observed. He glanced down at the stack of papers by his feet. What was in that stack? Papers of incorporation? What was Jon looking for? "What is it, Jon?"

Jon blew out a breath, then moved over to his desk. He moved the papers he had stacked in his chair and sat down. "Have you ever wondered if we could have stopped Dread before any of this started?"

Hawk chuckled. "Only all the time. It's too bad we can't go back in time. If we had known then what we know now, could we have kept the world from being destroyed? But we didn't know. Everything changed after he merged with Overmind."

"And the next day, biomechs were all over the planet," Jon reminded him. "Volcania was already up and running. He had biomech soldiers, overunits, human troops, human scientists and technical personnel already in position. He had been training Dread Youth for years. On the day it all started –"

"He had everything in place," Hawk finished.

Jon looked up at his friend. "Did you ever ask yourself how? What did he do beforehand and how did he do it without anyone knowing?"

~o~o~o~o~o~

Jon waited for an answer, but there wasn't one.

"Even your dad didn't know," Hawk finally said. "He knew that Lyman was obsessed with power and immortality, but to hook himself up to a computer? No one saw that coming."

Jon nodded. "When Dread caught me that time, he wanted to hook Dad up to Overmind so he could know the same things he did."

"Stuart wasn't interested," Hawk commented.

"Not in the least, but he was trying to buy time to get me out of there. I think that was when I realized that the Lyman Taggart I knew didn't exist anymore. Even Dad couldn't reach him."

Hawk sat down on the floor and looked through some of the real estate deeds. "By then it was too late, Jon, but," he motioned over the mess of papers all over the room, "what are you looking for?"

Jon looked at the paper that showed the three kids, looked over at the magazines dated in the 2120's. The world had been different then. Green grass, tall trees, blue water, clear skies, visible stars…

He'd been a carefree kid, playing baseball with his best friends, going on picnics, watching fireworks, going to school, he and Mitch were notorious for playing jokes on people.

Hawk had been a captain in the Air Force. He, Joanna, Stuart and Morgana had been four good friends who occasionally took trips together, let their kids play at each other's houses, joined the PTA and the parents' groups at school. Barbecues – Jon had forgotten about the barbecues! Stuart and Matt would argue about the best way to stack charcoal and the perfect way to cook a t-bone.

T-bone… it'd been so long since he'd had steak! He'd forgotten what it tasted like.

Tank would have been at Babylon 5, a volunteer for genetic manipulation and training no one realized would go so wrong for so many.

Scout remembered a little before the wars started. He mentioned a few things over the years – playing games, family get-togethers, general memories.

And Jennifer… "Hawk, do you know the few memories Jennifer has before she was with the Dread Youth?"

Hawk nodded. "She only remembers that one day. She was chasing a butterfly?"

"A blue one," Jon added. "She mentioned that it was a blue one." At the trial in Oasis, she had let it slip – growing up in Volcania, she had never known that there were such things like 'blue' butterflies. She didn't even know about butterflies.

"Blue, huh? She also said she saw soldiers coming, someone picked her up and ran with her. Something about statues. Why?"

How could Jon explain this? "She thinks she might have been about three years old when she was taken, but she's not sure. But she found out before she escaped the Dread Youth how long Dread had been training children to be in the Dread Youth."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Hawk inquired.

Jon shook his head. "He started building the Dread Youth at least twenty-two years ago."

"Okay. Twenty-two years ago," Hawk considered that.

"And Dread came to power fifteen years ago," Jon reminded him. "Twenty-two versus fifteen?"

Hawk closed his eyes for a moment. "I never did the math. Fifteen years wasn't long before your dad died. The Dread Youth was started –"

"Maybe seven years before that. Maybe a little longer," Jon explained. "Jennifer's memories have her being trained for the Dread Youth as soon as she was taken which could mean that Dread's coming to power as quickly as he did was part of a long term plan he had ironed out. I don't think it was him taking advantage of the resources he'd already built up. Not where the Dread Youth is in the timeline."

Hawk picked up the nearest paper. It was an article of incorporation for a hospital that was specifically designed to cater to the children of several schools and orphanages that Taggart had 'purchased.' "He was building his army out of the children he was supporting."

"More than that." Jon pulled a few more papers from the stack. "When we were at Oasis, Arvin told me that he worked at a laboratory that Taggart took over in a corporate buyout. He used the psychological manipulation research designed at that facility to brainwash Dread Youth. Arvin said he recognized his own processes when he saw the first youth soldiers. What surprised him when he met Jennifer is that anyone could break through the conditioning. It was designed to be resistance-proof. It may be possible that Dread used multiple methods on them –"

"Stolen from other places and experimented with to see what worked best?" Hawk finished.

"And look at this," Jon handed Hawk a deed.

"Genetics laboratory in California?" Hawk asked.

Jon nodded. "Look at the date, and then think about what was happening around that time in Taggart's life."

Hawk noticed the date was at least twelve years before he became Dread. Twelve years... "Wait, didn't Taggart have a sister who was killed in an attack about that time?"

"Glynnis Taggart. I don't remember her. I think I was only three at the time. I do know that their mother, Fran, loved to know the meanings of names and wanted all her children to have names that meant the same thing." He gave Hawk a written biography of Taggart that was used as part of the advertisement to recruit potential investors in some of his companies. "The Taggarts were born in the San Fernando Valley, so their mother gave them names that meant 'from the valley.'"

"Lyman and Glynnis?" Hawk shook his head. "Okay. Nice promo bit, I guess. Was there a point to it?"

"According to some of this paperwork, he made a move to get this particular genetics lab a couple of weeks after his sister was killed. I don't know if there's any significance to the date. Dad told me that Taggart was devoted to Glynnis. They were close. It almost killed him when he lost her, but then he makes a move to buy the lab that quickly? He uses the fact he was from San Fernando to make the board more sympathetic to him and vote him in as chairman of the board. Two months later, he buys up another genetics lab. Another one a month after that. It looks like he went on a two year personal mission of obtaining genetics labs all over the country."

"You're not just looking for evidence of how Dread built up his power base, are you?" Hawk asked him.

"There are so many things we don't know about him, Matt, because we never looked at the very beginning of his empire. If we could figure out some of these secrets, maybe we'd have a better chance of finding ways around him. Maybe we could find new resources to help us or other weapons he's had hidden away. Maybe if we start back at the beginning, we could find out everything."

Start back at the beginning? There was more to it than that. The dates on the paperwork were the hint - seven years before Taggart became Dread. That was a significant time for one of the team. It wasn't just Dread's origins that Jon was looking for. Hawk waited a few moments and then placed the papers in his hand back on a nearby stack. "You want to know more about Jennifer?"

Jon sighed and nodded his head. "She doesn't even know what her real name is, where she came from, nothing. She's wanting answers now. Maybe we can find a place to start looking in these files. I mean, the clues from her past gave me some hints about Dread's past. They might be closely linked. If we find out one, maybe we could find out the other –"

"And answer some of her questions as well as ours," Hawk said with a slight grin.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Some of this research was beginning to make sense to Hawk. Although Jon and Jennifer had debriefed them about what happened at Oasis, more happened than they had told anyone. Hawk suspected that more had been said between Jon and Jennifer. Did some of it have to do with Jennifer's past? She was very selective about how much information she told, even to the four men she trusted with her life.

"So we start back at the beginning," Hawk said. "Lyman was obsessed with power. I didn't know how much. Stuart did though. Years ago, power was defined by wealth, influence, position in society, public perception…" Hawk picked up several articles of incorporation. "Looks like he wanted to be a captain of industry. Lots of industries. He wanted to be a powerhouse like the robber barons of the late 19th century." He picked up real estate deeds and property transferals. "Here, he bought up orphanages and schools. He wanted to be an influence on kids. Let them all know his name. There are a few dictators in history who did the same thing." He looked at one bit of paperwork where Taggart had levied a takeover of a conglomerate that owned dozens of hospitals. "And he wanted to be seen as someone who wanted to help mankind. Being the person who brings hospitals to areas with limited medical care would have got him some positive press."

"So maybe his buying up all these companies was just something he wanted to do, but using these resources to further the will of the Machine was something separate?" Jon asked.

Hawk considered that. "It's possible. Maybe once he merged with Overmind, he found new uses for all these businesses." Then, another thought came to Hawk. "But he was training the Dread Youth for years... perhaps he was planning a military coup at some point and wanted his own private army? How could he do that? He'd have to house them, clothe them, feed them, train them -"

"Maybe in Volcania for a few who could survive more intensive training perhaps?" Jon answered.

Then, Hawk began to see what Jon was looking for. "Others that weren't were conditioned to follow Dread at the schools he owned?"

Jon shrugged. "It's possible, but the logistics of it don't work for me. Someone would have known something somewhere. Where were these schools located?"

Hawk double-checked the locations. "Detroit, mostly."

"Detroit? And he owned Detroit, and there was no oversight." Jon found a picture of Volcania from before the wars. "Volcania as we know it today wasn't finished until a few years ago, but Jennifer says she grew up in Volcania. Here, we have proof that there were other children kept in orphanages in schools. Or maybe what the older Dread Youth called Volcania isn't the fortress itself."

"The Detroit Metropolitan area," Hawk rationalized. "He may have just been starting construction on Volcania, connecting all the buildings in a single area into one large structure and then connecting it to other large structures. The Youth training schools could have been who-knows-which-one of the complexes on the site."

Jon leaned over and grabbed the city plans for Detroit that were drawn just prior to the foundations of the fortress being laid. "According to this, Taggart Industries was awarded literally all of Detroit and miles surrounding it. And," he found the petition Lyman Taggart had placed with the state government asking permission to change the name of area," rename it The Volcania Consortium for official purposes. It would still be Detroit, but the entire expanse could be referred to as Volcania as a means of describing it in some legal paperwork."

Something else occurred to Hawk – "That was done with other towns and cities all over North America. It started out being the best way to go for tax purposes, rationing out some resources, allotments of utility companies. At one point, they were grouping off closely linked towns to turn them into a type of self-sustaining forts and complexes. Fort Boxer, Fort Alden, Fort Crockett, there's several hundred like that all over the country. That came in handy when the wars first started. It was easier to mount a defense even though it was easier for the enemy to place them in a siege situation."

"He had the resources, the space and the raw materials he needed to build an army and create a technology that took over this planet."

"And he started it all years earlier. How did we not put all this together?" Hawk wanted to know.

"The information was scattered and buried in paperwork. Besides, we've been too busy to connect the dots," Jon complained. "Why were so many opportunities to stop Dread missed, Hawk? Not just by us, but someone in the government had to have suspected something... no, they wouldn't have. There was no oversight from anyone. No one knew what he was up to because no one saw the paperwork, so to speak."

Missed? "They weren't missed. A lot of it was politics. To do what he did, he had to have elected officials on his payroll. Plus no one in the military or Washington was willing to drop a nuclear warhead on our own soil. They wanted to negotiate since Taggart almost held the entire world hostage. Did I ever tell you about when I got my power suit? What I said?"

Jon shook his head. "No."

"Well, Taggart had you, and Stuart had gone to Volcania. I knew it was a suicide mission for him. Mentor had just gone active and told me about the suits. There was a 50% chance that it could all go wrong, so I told him if it did, he needed to contact Earthforce Headquarters Pentagon and call for an airstrike on Volcania."

"It would have worked," Jon told him. "The fortress wasn't fully functional then."

"It might have, but I survived activating my suit and went after you and Stuart. But here's the wrench in the works, Jon – when I was telling Mentor to contact Earthforce, there was no Earthforce anymore. It had been dismantled and basically destroyed hours earlier. Washington was taken over by biomechs, every single politician was detained, digitized or killed. Everything was gone. You see, Dread gave Stuart an hour to get to Volcania after he took you. That hour was when he made his final takeover of Washington. He kept Stuart distracted so he couldn't do anything to stop him or warn anyone." He paused for a moment. "I can see how important this is, but why the sudden interest?"

Jon frowned. "No one ever stopped him. No one ever stood in his way. It's like they opened a path for him and he charged through while a few tried to prepare to survive him, not fight him. It makes no sense. He got the resources to build Volcania while the politicians were scratching their heads and twiddling their thumbs, trusting that there was going to be one big fix for all the wars that were being fought. He was gathering technology, Intel and military forces… did he plan it all and we missed it or did he decide to take over the world after he merged with Overmind, and he had all the resources and was gathering even more?" Jon moved a few stacks of papers and stood up. "How many lives didn't have to be destroyed?"

"Hindsight, Jon," Hawk told him. "We just didn't know then."

"We could have stopped him, the governments could have, the armies… no one did. And look what he did."

Hawk knew there was another condemnation there. _Look what he did to the Dread Youth. Look what he did to Jennifer._

Hawk had never really viewed the events in that way. "If they had, then we would be very different people, Jon. Stuart would probably be heading up some research and development firm in Silicon Valley. I'd have general's stars on my shoulder, probably working at the Pentagon. You, you could have been anything from an electrical engineer to a systems developer to an Air Force general. Tank might have been in the military anyway. Scout and Jennifer? They lived most of their lives either in war torn areas or under Dread's influence. There's no telling what they would have been or done. I think the only thing I can say for sure is that we probably wouldn't have ever met any of them."

Jon laughed at another old saying of his mother's. "If things were different, then they wouldn't be the same," he quoted.

Hawk smiled. "Joanna used to say that a lot. Usually to Stuart when he couldn't get an experiment to go right and he'd start complaining abut the laws of physics and not being able to change them. Then, when an experiment did go right for him, your mom would say he hit it out of the ballpark."

Jon nodded. "If all his plans for Overmind had worked -"

"Grand slam," Hawk said. "It was a gamble. We all knew that. It just didn't pay off."

Jon leaned against the wall. "How much of what we did or didn't do helped create a monster like Dread?"

"Don't go down that road, Jon," Hawk warned. "I have, and it's a dead end. Stuart couldn't stop kicking himself for helping create Overmind which ultimately led to all this. It was good intentions, but you know that paves a road to a well-known place. People wanted the wars to end, they hired Stuart and Taggart to end them, and it just didn't work. Stuart tried to make things right again. He ran out of time."

Jon sighed. "I always wondered what Dad had planned. Built this base, designed the suits, created Mentor, but what else did he have up his sleeve that we don't know about? He was spearheading the fight against Dread, he knew he probably wouldn't be coming back when he went into Volcania, but he was planning on taking Dread with him." Jon paused for a moment to catch his breath. "Matt, do you ever wonder how Dread survived the explosion and Dad didn't?"

"All the time," Hawk told him. "Maybe Stuart was in the direct line of a blast. Maybe Dread was shielded somehow?"

"Do you ever think that maybe…"

Hawk wasn't going to lie to him. "Every now and then, the thought creeps in. Maybe Stuart did survive and is in Volcania somewhere. Maybe Soaron got inside the structure just in time and digitized him while he protected Dread. I've gone over so many scenarios, each one a little crazier than the others, but I don't believe that Stuart survived. If he had, Dread would have used him as bait in a trap for you. He hasn't."

Jon nodded and sighed. It was hard to argue with logic. "Sometimes, I wish I could talk to him just one more time, find out what he had in mind, hear what he'd have to say. Right after he was killed, I thought maybe he had survived and Dread would set a trap for us, but day after day passed and Dread didn't try to trick us into a fake rescue. He and I never talked about what I should do if he was killed or how I should stop Dread. No hint at all about the suits or Mentor. He kept all that secret, and he didn't have time to tell me any of it."

"He would have," Hawk believed. "He would have wanted you to know everything he had in mind." Hawk waited a moment before saying, "I miss him too. I never had a friend like him before."

"It hurt when I lost him, Matt. Even more than when we lost Mom. It was just him and me for a long time."

Hawk nodded. "I know. Losing someone you care about rips you apart from the inside, and everything we do keeps the wound raw. When I lost Joanna and the kids, there were days I didn't want to breathe. I did though because I had to. And here, we all know that we have a dangerous job. Any one of us might not come back from a mission someday." They'd had so many close calls, but the look that Jon gave Jennifer before he left to visit the memorial was proof to Hawk that the thought of losing her someday had crossed his thoughts, and it was a thought he didn't want to entertain.

"We've been lucky so far," Jon protested.

Hawk wanted to say that luck wouldn't last forever, but sometimes, no one needed to say the obvious out loud.

"I wonder what Dad would say to all - " Jon pointed to the piles of paperwork - "this. What we've done. How we've done it. The team."

"Stuart could be opinionated, that's for sure," Hawk told him as he stood up and stretched slightly. "Especially when it came to something he really believed in or someone he cared about. If things were different and he was here, I have no doubt he'd be proud of you and what you've accomplished and how hard you've fought. He'd like Scout. I think he'd actually make Stuart laugh. And Tank? I could see him and Stuart getting along fine, but I do know one thing," Hawk mentioned as he walked toward the door, "he would have really liked Jennifer and would've told you that you made a good choice. Personally, I think he'd want to know what took you so long to figure that out."

He could imagine Jon's expression at that statement.

~o~o~o~o~o~

Jon sat back down in the middle of the paper stacks and tried to reshuffle them back into their original piles. He had a few more clues, a few more details, but not the answers he was hoping to find. He felt like he was looking at a giant jigsaw puzzle with too many pieces missing.

But he did know one thing - Lyman Taggart hadn't created the Machine Empire all on his own. Others had helped create the opportunity, and he'd taken advantage of it because no one watched what he was doing. Even Stuart Power himself had a hand in all that happened even though his intentions were to make the world safer, but Taggart had bastardized his work.

Maybe if his dad and Taggart hadn't built Overmind...

Maybe if Taggart had never merged his mind with the computer's...

Maybe if the government hadn't removed all the oversight...

Maybe, maybe, maybe -

He wished his dad were there. He wished his dad could answer his questions. All his questions.

"If things were different, they wouldn't be the same, would they?" he asked himself.

There were so many things he wanted to change, so many lives he wanted to help. All that might have been needed is one person doing one thing different to alter the course of history.

Then what if he'd never met Jennifer?

One single change in the past, and everything could have changed in the future. Civilization could still exist. Cities would still be standing. People would still be alive. It did point to the idea that if the world had never gone through the titanic struggle to survive, he might never have known her.

He couldn't imagine not knowing her.

Was that being selfish?

"I can honestly say I don't think I've ever seen a room at this base this messy. Ever."

Jon turned around the moment he heard her voice. Jennifer stood in the doorway, smiling. One look at her, just the mere sight of her standing there, and all those questions he'd asked his dad seemed to answer themselves. All the doubt and confusion went away. If anything, she clarified what he was fighting for.

"You should have seen it when I was a teenager," Jon told her. "Let's just say I wasn't the neatest kid in town."

"Hawk let you get away with that?"

Jon sort of shrugged. "Not really. I outgrew it."

"Well, Scout's requested me to tell you that since you missed breakfast and lunch, you're not missing supper," she said as she walked carefully over the paper piles. "Papers?"

Jon turned slightly, carefully, making sure he didn't knock over any of the papers and moved some away so she'd have a place to sit. "It was some research my dad started before he died. I think he was wondering how Taggart's Machine Empire was as advanced as it was by the time he became Dread. He got all the information in hardcopy form."

She sat down next to him, picked up one of the nearest newspapers and read the headlines. "NORAD Declassifies Hidden Base Inside Cheyenne Mountain. Red Sox Maintain Winning Streak with 10th World Series Win In A Row, Dow Up For Third Month In a Row. It almost reads like another language," she commented as she put the paper back.

"I thought the same thing when I found some documents written in some legal language," he agreed.

"What have you found out?" she asked him.

Jon looked at one pile in particular. He had stacked certain papers that went into detail of Dread's past financial transactions. "Lyman Taggart didn't become Dread or build his Empire overnight. He started earlier than that, but the information's incomplete. I've found out some of the things he had, but I'm guessing at what he did with them -"

"Genetics laboratories?" Jennifer mumbled out loud. "Hospitals? Orphanages? He was given Detroit and it was renamed..."

"What is it?" he asked.

She looked up at him, the gleam of realization reaching her eyes. "All this happened when he was still Lyman Taggart. He hadn't merged with Overmind. It wasn't just the influence of a machine that made him evil."

"No, it wasn't just machine. He wanted power back then," Jon stated. "He found ways to get it."

Jennifer picked up one of the title transfers. "He likes to tell the Dread Youth that he was chosen by the Machine to lead the world through the transition. I wish we could use all this to convince others that it's all a lie."

"We might be able to someday. Look at what else I found."

~o~o~o~o~o~

One by one, they went through each page of the stack. They began to put the papers back in chronological order when they heard Scout's voice over the communicator. _"Jennifer, do we need to send out a search party?"_ His voice carried the hint of a smirk they knew had to be on his face.

She glanced back at Jon, smiling. "I forgot. I was supposed to come get you so you would eat supper." She keyed her communicator. "We're on our way, Scout. We got caught up in some paperwork."

Pilot looked at her chronometer and realized it was much later than she thought. Time had gotten away from her. She turned her head to find Jon standing beside her and his hand extended down to her. His skin was warm as his fingers curled around her hand, gently pulling her to her feet. He didn't let go as soon as she was standing. He kept her hand securely in his. "Supper sounds like a good idea, huh?" he asked.

Before she could say anything, Scout's voice came over the communicator. _"Paperwork? Please don't tell me that's code for something?"_

Jennifer was about to answer when she heard Tank's low chuckle next. _"I don't think so, unless you'd like to make a bet?"_ Scout wasn't talking to her.

"_After this morning?"_ Scout's voice almost sounded surprised_. "No thanks! I'm tired of having to cook this many meals because of losing a bet."_ Everyone on the other side of the communicator laughed.

Jennifer looked quizzically at Jon who placed a gentle finger to her lips, motioning her to keep silent and listen. Obviously, the rest of the team didn't realize the channel was still open.

Hawk almost sounded like he was trying to stifle a laugh. _"Maybe you should tell them that since they showed up last, they get KP again? More time together without us interfering or overhearing?"_

Jennifer felt like she was blushing. She and Jon were being talked about. They had become a topic of conversation? When had that happened?

Jon reached over, took her wrist and shut down the channel on the communicator. She felt the blush rise a little higher at the touch. Still warm. Still gentle, and still not letting go as soon as he should. Or could.

"I knew they were up to something. I just didn't know what." He looked back down at her. "Want to have some fun with them?" he asked, a mischievous sparkle in his blue eyes.

She raised an eyebrow at the idea. "What do you have in mind."

Jon thought for a moment. "We'll have to be subtle for a while. For tonight... maybe tell them we're taking KP duty because we need to talk about some things?"

Jennifer saw the opportunity for a little diversionary fun. "Maybe tell them we need to talk about some paperwork?"

"Good idea," Jon chuckled.

The communicator dinged for her attention again. "We're on our way," she told Scout.

"_Good. Supper's getting cold,"_ Scout told her.

Without letting go of her hand, Jon led them out of his quarters. Jennifer found that she liked the physical connection and held his hand tighter. "So, any idea what they're betting on?" she asked him.

Jon smiled. "Hawk said I didn't want to know."


	29. Chapter 18 The Eden Road Part 1

_**Author's note: **The Eden Road seemed to have a lot of information and moments that came out of left field that led me to ask a lot of questions. Luckily, all those open-ended questions are wonderful to have when writing a fanfic. They can lead the muse and the plot bunny in all sorts of directions to weave a story together. I let them loose, and a lot of those questions I asked got used in this three-part tag to The Eden Road. Big thanks to Kazthom for alpha/betaing this story and giving the story a nudge here and there to help get it where it wanted to go. :)_

**The Eden Road: Part 1**

**Volcania**

**(A few days before the Power Team goes into Darktown)**

Dread loved reading mystery novels. At least, he did when he was merely Lyman Taggart and before he found all the answers to life's mysteries explained by The Machine. He'd read a variety of genres growing up, but a mystery novel... the reader could _be_ the detective's 'sidekick' in a vicarious way. The reader could follow the clues the author hid in the narrative, be right there in the action as they chased down the breadcrumbs and solve the mystery before the detective in the book did. It was fun, and it was a literary way to train his mind to look for clues. As a scientist, he knew that everything in existence could be considered a mystery. All those scientific questions needing answers required hours/days/weeks/years of painstaking research. That type of investigation was similar to the private eye's search for the elusive missing person or looking for that one clue necessary to solve the puzzle. Perhaps if Dread hadn't become a scientist, he would have been a police detective. Mysteries had always appealed to his meticulous nature.

Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, Hercule Poirot, Brother Cadfael, Philip Marlowe, Simon Templar, Professor Vallejo, The Major, Janus Roarke, Erik Handleman, The Davison Twins, Roderick Goodman - so many mysteries, so little time to read them all, but Lyman Taggart had read as many as he could. It didn't matter when the mysteries were written. 19th, 20th, 21st, or 22nd century, they all seemed to envelop one particular element, one engaging theme. The core of a mystery was solidly built on the idea that the reader could figure out the answer before the detective did no matter how many red herrings the writer tossed into the mix if the reader had a keen eye and a perceptive mind. Perhaps some writers wanted that, perhaps others didn't, but each knew that their readers loved to figure out the ending so they could pat themselves on the back in self-congratulations. It was true; humans loved a mystery. Dread was no different. But he didn't just read them. He devoured them. Every word from cover to cover, he read them so many times that their jackets would be in tatters from overuse. All those books, all those stories, and from them, he had learned that it was the small details that could reveal the larger picture. The problem was gathering, classifying, and categorizing all the small details to determine which could be the pivotal bit of information to tell him what he wanted to know.

The mystery he had been working on for weeks had taken up most of his time and attention. It started with one single sentence and had tantalized his brain ever since. The words the tech had told him still gave him pause. On 47-9 Mark 3, Power showed up in three distinct locations in a three-hour time span.

In three separate regions of the country.

_On the same day. _

Given the current technology available to the organics in the Wastelands, the Resistance groups and even the Machine Empire itself, being in three different locations that far apart in such a short amount of time was physically impossible. How did Power do it? That jumpship of his wasn't that fast. Their pilot had excellent flying skills, but even she couldn't make the ship fly faster than spec. It was so old; it would shake apart at those speeds. Any ship would.

So Dread had a mystery on his hands.

Power's ability to travel to the far reaches of the country in a brief amount of time gave him an edge over Dread's forces. Even Soaron. An edge meant an advantage, and Dread didn't need Jonathan to have any advantages over his forces. It didn't make him appear threatening to the organics in the Wasteland. It didn't make him look infallible to the Dread Youth, and it certainly didn't make him seem competent in Overmind's opinion for their enemy to continually best them.

Dread had to figure out this mystery, and like all good detectives in those novels he used to read, he decided to start at the beginning to try to find the proverbial path of breadcrumbs.

Breadcrumbs, he mused. Hundreds of years after the 'breadcrumb' reference was mentioned in a children's tale, it was still used to denote how someone found their way through... anything. Sometimes, old adages didn't die or go away. They held their meaning even though the original story was lost to time. So he started looking at all the proverbial breadcrumbs scattered around this mystery to find the path that led to the answer.

Machinery itself was the first breadcrumb he examined. How could a ship create that kind of speed and maintain hull integrity? How could any engine sustain those speeds? He considered the various engines and speed-adding technology from the last few centuries. Turbos, hemis, booster rockets, horsepower... all the technology from the 20th century forward was rejected when considering the compatibility with 22nd century post-wars technology.

So maybe the reason wasn't mechanical?

How could a ship go from place to place that far apart in such a short time? If the ship itself couldn't create or maintain those kinds of speeds...

Maybe something else was moving the ship?

His memory picked up a second breadcrumb.

Even before he and Stuart Power had built Overmind, teleportation technology had been in the theoretical stages, but what if someone somewhere had developed it beyond theory and he had never heard about it? That was possible. Long before the wars, he was looking to consolidate a financial and philanthropically-appearing empire of his own. He wasn't paying attention to others' theoretical sciences or pursuits or studies at the time. Plus, there was absolutely no reference to any type of teleportation technology in the Machine database in Volcania. Whoever the scientists were that were working on the theory were lost as were their data.

So it couldn't be teleportation. The science didn't exist. Dread tried to think about the first time he became aware of the speed the Power Team moved. They had always been a nuisance, but when they could appear so quickly and under radar as it were -

Was it ten years ago? No, it was twelve years ago. It was over a small settlement in Arkansas. Masterson was flying around in his Hawk suit, the XT jet was making strafing runs, and then there was the jumpship flying support. That was the first time Dread remembered all three flying devices in use at the same time. What had truly surprised him was that they had been over New York merely an hour earlier, but with the battle and the casualties and the damage done to biomechs and Soaron taking up his attention, Dread didn't think much more about it. If he'd had any thoughts about it at the time, they were pushed back in favor of more pressing problems.

They had the required technology that long ago?

But the science didn't exist.

_The science didn't exist!_

Dread turned that idea inside out. If the science didn't exist fifteen years earlier, maybe the theories did? Maybe that was what Jonathan used to create a science twelve years ago? It had to be Jonathan, right? Masterson wasn't a scientist, and even though he was married to one, he couldn't have learned enough from her to build it. He could barely use a computer. The Babylon 5 escapee was proficient with technology, but to design from theories would require more skill than he possessed. Then Dread double-checked the date when the young computer expert known as Scout was first noticed to be with the team... no, twelve years ago was too early. According to his records, Scout joined the team only nine years ago, so it couldn't have been him. The pilot? No, she hadn't been there long enough either. It had to be Jonathan, but he would have still been a boy. He was always a bright, intelligent boy, but could he have designed something that must have been so scientifically advanced from mere theories?

And what if it wasn't merely theories? What if prototypes and specs existed somewhere in some storage facility no one remembered? Or what if they were listed in some obscure database somewhere else?

Little breadcrumbs were beginning to line up for Dread. There was nothing in the Machine's database about it, but what about the web itself? Dread remembered an old 20th century saying about the web. _Nothing was ever lost_. Maybe the information was still out there in the servers the organics used, accessible in places like Tech City. Dread couldn't go there himself to search the organic-made web without attracting attention, he couldn't trust anyone else to go there and remain completely silent about the operation, and he couldn't access it inside Volcania without attracting Overmind's attention. He needed a secure terminal in an area where he wouldn't be seen and Overmind couldn't detect what he was doing.

Searching for just such a terminal was going to be a problem unless the search was timed just right.

Overmind ran a daily systems diagnostic on himself every evening which kept his sensors busy internally. That was the time Dread knew he could search for a secure access point. The problem was how he could do it without attracting Overmind's attention. Searches were saved in the database, and Overmind controlled the database. After long consideration, Dread came to an ironic conclusion. What he was searching _for_ could be the means he was searching _by_. He could search for the access points in the organic web by using the organic web to search. Then, he was back to a previous problem - he couldn't trust anyone else to do the search, and he couldn't go to places like Tech City himself...

Then, an old memory returned. Years earlier, the organic web had companies that provided access to the users to the web. One of those companies was located in Detroit when he was ceded ownership of the area. He had used the servers for a few years early on to establish communications in his growing empire, before he established the new Machine technology, and if memory served, there was still an old computer docking port in his throne room.

He looked around his throne room. "Think, Dread, think," he whispered to himself. "Where was it?"

There'd been so many changes to the structure over the years, and the explosion that killed Stuart Power had blown out entire walls inside the fortress. His throne room had nearly buckled and there was a lot of rebuilding and renovation -

"Ah, of course. Now I remember." He walked over to the far wall. It had survived the blast and hadn't needed anything more than a few nuts and bolts replaced. He pulled a metal table away from the wall and saw what had once been the data port for the web connection.

Sometimes, it was a good idea to not get rid of everything from the Old World. He could use this connection to search the web with an independent computer, and Overmind wouldn't learn about it from the database. Good thing he hadn't thrown all of those ancient devices away as well.

Day by day, he would search a single sector, slowly amassing a listing of any terminals Overmind had no access to but were still connected to the organic web. However, just because Overmind had no access to it didn't mean that it was secure enough or in a secure enough location for Dread to access without being noticed. Well, he'd deal with that problem as it arose.

He checked his chronometer. It was morning. Overmind wouldn't be running his diagnostics for hours, so Dread waited.

And waited.

To pass the time, Dread played music lowly over the speakers. Years ago, he wanted to convey a particular image to the public. He wanted to be a powerhouse within the halls of finance and empire building. He wanted to make connections with all the powerful people on the planet - billionaires, politicians, artists, scientists, inventors, innovators, educators, dictators. He had to excel in more areas than just the sciences. He read the classics, learned the fine art of diplomacy, studied the shades of philanthropy. He learned which fork to eat with, what wine to have with which dish, how to dance. One thing he thoroughly enjoyed was learning about all the classical composers. Mozart, Beethoven, Liszt, Bach, Brahms, Wagner, all of them. He didn't think that his preference for Swing and Doo Wop would have elevated his personal profile within public perception, so that part of himself was kept secret while everyone thought he was a true patron of the arts.

Bach began to play. It was Toccata and Fugue in D minor. He did enjoy Bach's music. There was a different sort of liveliness to the melodies that he enjoyed in Bach's style that he didn't find in Mozart or Vivaldi. He never could put his finger on the exact explanation, but that lack of detail didn't bother him. Besides, it didn't matter at that moment. One of the pervading aspects of music softly played meant that Overmind couldn't listen in to Dread's throne room. It interfered with his sensors, and Dread could have some privacy.

Then again, what would Overmind think of Doo Wop if Dread played it?

Finally, evening rolled around, and Overmind's diagnostic began. Dread hauled out a nearly ancient computer from a storage cabinet and hooked it up to the data port. "Hopefully, it's still working," he whispered to himself more than anyone else. He powered it up and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, the screen began to lighten up, and numbers appeared as the system ran through the startup programs. Then, there it was. A working computer from the Old World. Dread smiled at the thought that such ancient technology could sneak underneath the Machines' systems. With just a few keystrokes, Dread started his search for inaccessible data terminals. Sector 7... absolutely nothing. Sector 15... two terminals. Sector 19... wait, Sector 19? That was one of the sectors with little human or machine activity. That meant fewer data terminals in existence... one after another, all over the sector, independent data terminals were appearing on the sensors. Odd... how could all those exist? Dread expected a few, maybe even five or six over an entire sector, but over a dozen? That was unexpected. Some were in now crumbling libraries that had almost been destroyed during his library purge some months back. A few were in old, abandoned government buildings... but those buildings had no power. How could the terminals be working? Then one in particular grabbed his attention - the old archives building in Darktown. Nothing could survive Darktown. It was an acid-eroded, proton bombed, unlivable area that destroyed anything and everything that entered there. The place was a protonic cesspool that was collapsing in on itself.

Yet somehow, for some reason, the terminal still functioned and was still connected to the organic web. More than that, it was showing indications of recent activity. Someone was accessing it somehow. Someone wishing to jack in without having to pay to access the web undoubtedly, but how were they getting out there? How were they surviving the acid? That was another mystery he'd worry about later. At that moment, if there was any information as to the location of the laboratories researching teleportation technology, the identities of the scientists involved or even the status of the technology itself, it would be in the old web, and it could be accessed from that terminal without anyone knowing.

Step one of solving the mystery was taken care of.

Now for step two.

He needed a ruse to send a few of his specially programmed troops into that area so he wouldn't attract Overmind's attention, and he needed to do so in such a way that would keep Overmind's suspicions away from him. Something was going on with Overmind, but Dread couldn't figure out exactly what it was. He knew Blastarr was loyal to a fault, but as sure as he was of that, he was equally certain that he couldn't trust Lackki. He had the distinct impression that the little robot was spying on him, and Soaron's loyalties were coming under scrutiny as far as Dread was concerned.

Ah, Soaron. The perfect biodread to begin the ruse. Overmind would never suspect him. But what ruse to use?

He considered possible orders, a multitude of missions... but no, he had to be sneaky. He checked Soaron's locator... he wasn't far from Darktown. Close proximity... ah ha! There was an order he could give that would attract no attention or raise any proverbial eyebrows.

Dread switched off his music and switched on his communicator. In a nonchalant manner called out, "Soaron."

There was a brief pause, and then Soaron's voice came back over the comm. _"Yes, my lord?"_

"What is your current location?"

"I am searching for a Resistance communications station in Sector 20 as ordered by Lord Overmind."

Yes. Perfect.

"I have received information that a Resistance cell could be operating near an abandoned area in Sector 19 known as Darktown. The conditions of the region would make it impossible for organics to go into the affected area itself, but they could be nearby. Proceed to that area and perform an aerial recon. Report back as soon as you have the data."

"_Sector 19 confirmed, my lord."_

Soaron would check it out. No matter what he found, Dread could use his search as a reason to send in biomechs loyal to him to find the data terminal, download any and all data they could find and transmit it back to Dread. The biomechs wouldn't survive, but then again, that would only help Dread's plans. There would be no witnesses to his actions.

"_Dread?"_ Overmind's voice sounded over the speakers.

"Yes, Overmind?"

"_My tracking systems indicate that Soaron is flying toward Sector 19."_

Dread glanced back at the speaker and then switched on his monitor to read the day's collected Intel. "A reconnaissance mission, nothing more. There are rumors of Resistance cells in the area. An aerial surveillance should be adequate to determine if the information is sound. If there are areas impervious to Soaron's sensors, I will send in a small troop of biomechs to investigate."

Overmind didn't answer. It was a logical answer to his inquiry, so why should he wonder about Dread's activities?

~0~0~0~0~

**A Day Later**

Soaron walked into Dread's throne room, his metal feet clanging on the metal floor. Dread was listening to music. Soaron's logical mind wondered at that for a moment. Music was forbidden, so why was Dread listening to it? "My lord?"

Dread looked at him, a sudden frown on his face. "What have you to report, Soaron?"

"I saw no evidence of Resistance cells in or around Sector 19," Soaron answered immediately. Then he saw an old monitor close to Dread's throne. There was a map of the country with certain sites indicated on the monitor. A closer scan of his sensors interpreted the data as sites of terminals whose positions he couldn't identify. Their locations were not in his database. "Nor did I find any Resistance communication station in Sector 20. I have already forwarded my report to Lord Overmind."

Dread barely nodded, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes as he listened to the music. His behavior concerned Soaron. "My lord?"

"Bach is the composer," Dread answered. "I was pondering a difference between perception of organic and Machine."

Pondering? Soaron knew that word. It was an organic term meant to think, to consider. Lord Dread had been a scientist before he merged with Overmind, so perhaps this was a scientific evaluation? "What type of perception, my lord?"

"The effects of music on military troops. What do you know of human history, Soaron?"

History? That was an odd question. Certainly, he was programmed with dates, locations, names and events, but what was Lord Dread curious about? "I have the required historical programming," he answered.

"Of course," Dread's voice sounded almost reticent. "Throughout history, music has been used by organics to help motivate, to inspire, even at times to punish. Armies would play songs for their soldiers to march in cadence to. There were reports of some armies holding a site in siege and playing very loud music at night so the enemy couldn't sleep. Exhaustion was imposed on the enemy which gave the attacking forces an advantage."

"Are you considering using music as a weapon against the organics?" Soaron asked.

"As you know, my warlord, the Resistance uses all manner of weapons against the Machine Empire. Should we not explore that tactic to use if it would yield a success in battle as well as our response should the Resistance use it against us?" Dread asked him.

Ah. Hyper-vigilance when considering offensive and defensive tactics. That was a logical course of action. "It would be a logical tactic to understand," Soaron agreed. Dread had at one time been completely human. He would understand the best ways to defeat the organics. He wondered if he should speak to Overmind about Dread's behavior? It seemed somewhat un-Machine-like, more so than ever.

"Yes, logical. I was also considering certain pieces of music as ways to help motivate the cadets in the Dread Youth. A unifying auditory theme, as it were."

Soaron listened to the music. Bach? The name meant nothing to him. How could that music be used as a weapon or a theme? It seemed too calm. Were organics in some way dependent on sensory stimulation? Machines weren't. The need for music wasn't logical, yet he knew that sometimes an unorthodox move in a battle could win the day for their forces, no matter how illogical the move was. He'd seen it happen before, usually at Lord Dread's orders. Perhaps having someone still somewhat organic commanding their armies, someone who understood how organics thought and acted, was one of the reasons Overmind kept Dread alive?

"Bach is not my choice for either however," Dread suddenly informed him. "It was merely one of the many pieces I have listened to today. There are others more suitable to my purposes."

"I do not understand, my lord."

"There are many forms of music that have developed over the centuries. Bach is not one I would employ for battle purposes, but I am merely satisfying a scientific curiosity," Dread answered him. "Sometimes, one must research the inconsequential and unrelated to better understand the importance of the significant."

That did make sense to Soaron. As a machine, he understood the logic behind understanding small details within a larger problem, even those seemingly unrelated.

Dread waved his hand toward the door, indicating that Soaron was dismissed.

Once out in the corridor, Soaron contacted Overmind through their secure connection. "My Lord Overmind?"

"_Yes, my warlord?"_

"Lord Dread is behaving illogically. Music was playing in his throne room."

There was a pause, and then Overmind's voice echoed in Soaron's internal auditory sensors. _"He has been listening to various types of music all day. Did he explain his actions to you?"_

"He said he was performing research on the possible advantages of music in connection with the Dread Youth or being used as a weapon against us or a method to protect the Empire."

Again, Overmind was silent. Finally, he said, _"That is logical. Organics have been known to use music in regards to their military. Our recent losses to the Resistance, Power in particular, would encourage Dread to find various methods of fighting them. However, it interferes with my sensors. I cannot hear or see Dread while the music is playing. Is his behavior in any way disconcerting?"_

"Not disconcerting, my lord," Soaron explained. "He is sitting on his throne listening, but there was a location schematic of terminals that are not listed in our data files."

"_Data terminals?"_

"Yes, my lord."

There was a pause. _"He may be independently searching for the information leak that has inundated our forces of late."_

Information leak? Soaron had been curious if the enemy had obtained classified data from the Machine Empire given their recent actions. The way Power was able to be at certain locations when the information of the site was classified had concerned the Empire's tacticians. "Was the reason for my flight over Sector 20 to find a communications station? I was seeking an enemy obtaining classified information?"

"_It was,"_ Overmind answered. _"I have been searching for the source and the method by confirming or disproving as many rumors as possible. Your reconnaissance missions have been invaluable to that end. It would seem that Dread is also searching in his own manner."_

An information leak. Was that how the enemy was able to defeat them so readily so many times? But how could that be? And Overmind didn't trust Dread, but he was willing to allow Dread to continue the rather un-Machine-approved behavior? "How may I be of further service, my lord?"

"_I will need your assistance in the future to find the means the enemy is using to get our information. Also, keep watch on Dread. Report back any odd behavior to me."_ Overmind's voice didn't sound very sure to Soaron.

In fact, it was not an uncommon occurrence to hear a hint of doubt in his master's voice of late. The information leak must go deeper into Volcania or higher in the hierarchy than was considered possible?

~0~0~0~0~

Dread waited until his monitors showed Soaron walking further away down the corridor. He also noticed more internal communication activity on Soaron's diagnostic monitors. He was talking to someone. Undoubtedly, it was Overmind. It was another small indication that convinced him that some sort of subterfuge was going on between Soaron and Overmind. Was it possible they were conspiring against him? Why, he didn't know.

He reached over to the computer console and flipped a switch. Immediately, a biomech showed up in the monitor. L15 was one of dozens of biomechs Dread built and programmed personally to be independent automatons. There was no connection between them and the Empire's computer systems even though each was programmed to behave as if they were. Therefore, L15 was 'untouched' by Overmind and was completely trustworthy.

"_How may I serve you, my lord?'_

"I am uploading your orders to your now, L15. Take a squad to Sector 19. Find that terminal. Get me that Intel. Transmit the data over this secure frequency only to me. Is that understood?"

"_Understood, my lord."_

The ruse had been successful. Soaron's reconnoiter had not brought about any undue attention. The troops were not ordered into Dark Town without Overmind's knowledge, and should Overmind question him further, Dread had a reasonable explanation for his actions. Everything was working out as planned.

Knowing that further time spent listening to music would rouse Overmind's suspicions, Dread shut down the music file. So much for jamming Overmind's sensors for a short amount of time so he could have some privacy to instigate his plan.

And so much for Bach.

~0~0~0~0~

**Dread's Throne Room**

**(One day after Power went to Darktown)**

Dread read over the details of the data search L15 had transmitted back to him for what had to be the seventh time.

What he was reading was impossible. It had to be theoretical. It had to be a future plan. It couldn't have existed over fifteen years earlier. Certainly, something this big, this massive, this involved couldn't have existed without his knowledge.

Eco-domes? Bio-domes? Entire towns and cities turned into ecological experiments? None of those existed. The few bio-domes that were in operation fifteen years earlier were wiped out during the battles. There were towns that served as remodified forts of sorts. Consortiums of a type. Unified areas that served particular purposes, like Detroit and the surrounding areas when he turned it into Volcania.

None of the unified areas were ever built for ecological purposes.

"_My lord?"_

Blastarr's voice still sounded weak, even over the intercom. The acid fog had done so much damage to his internal systems that he was still regenerating a day after walking into Darktown. It shouldn't have happened. Soaron had not suffered from the acid when he reconned the area. The only logical explanation was that Blastarr's more sensitive response to the fog had to do with Power's interruption at his birth. It must have made him imperfect. He'd fallen so quickly after entering the area. Dread sent in another thirty biomechs to carry Blastarr out of the acid only to lose most of those robots along the way. Only L15 and two members of his squad barely survived. The rest had lost to the acid fog. L15's systems were functioning at a minimal level when he was dragged back to Volcania by the remaining two biomechs. How he withstood Darktown as long as he did was a mystery, but his internal functions quickly deteriorated and only his data processors were still functioning for a few hours longer than expected. Dread removed his processing chips in order to salvage the data before it was lost. Still, his loyal biomech got the information Dread had secretly sent him after, and he had more in his databanks than was transmitted back over the secure frequency.

"What is your condition, my warlord?"

"_Full regeneration should be attained in twenty-two hours."_

Twenty-two hours. That was too long, but there was no other choice.

"Report to me as soon as you have regenerated."

"_Affirmative."_

Dread waited a moment, and then pressed another button on his console. Immediately, Mozart began to play in the background. He didn't want Overmind listening in. Something was going on with Overmind, some duplicity that Dread couldn't determine or find out about. The less Overmind knew about his activities, the better Dread liked it. Finding out more about these locations listed in the terminal's database was paramount. There had to be more than what was in the printout, and the biomech that he'd sent in for the sole purpose of gaining that terminal's information could have the answers he was looking for. He connected the biomech's data processors to his personal computer and brought it online. "Computer, I wish to dialogue with the biomech's internal and verbal processors."

"Acknowledged," was the quick response.

Immediately, the computer brought the processors systems up to full power. "Processors ready, my lord."

It was an ingenious program Dread had designed himself. Even if a biomech was utterly destroyed, as long as a processor still existed, Dread could 'rebuild' its data packs and have it 'speak' to him as if the biomech were standing in front of him.

"What information did you determine from your download of the files in the computer database in Darktown?"

There was a pause as the computer's verbal response programs accessed the biomech's information and 'spoke' in the biomech's voice. _"I traced the terminal's connection, and it is a data terminal used by the organics' web network that is inaccessible to Overmind. There is a type of shield protecting the terminal that is not recorded in my databanks, but the acid fog in Darktown forced the original connectors to slowly deteriorate. They have been replaced by connectors impervious to the acid."_

Someone had gone in there and worked on the terminal? How? That was a mystery he'd deal with later. "It is independent of any and all other computer systems?" Dread asked him.

"_Not quite, my lord. It can access the organics' web, but no computer system can access this particular terminal. The connection is one way. The database was originally accessed inside Darktown fourteen months ago. Most files are inaccessible without password authorization, but I downloaded all the accessible files I could. Some are intact, but one in particular has been accessed more times than the others in the past fourteen months."_

Dread waited for the file to show on his monitor, and what he saw surprised him. It was a grid map of the continent with several particular locations in each region marked in red. There was nothing else in the file.

"What is your assessment?"

"_It is a map of specific locations, yet the areas indicated are barren. Two are uninhabitable by organics due to environmental conditions. I cannot ascertain the purpose or import of these locations by the map alone. It is the locations themselves that may be the answer to your inquiry."_

The answer? Dread pondered the map. Locations all over the continent... no, the country. It was specific sites over the continental United States. Was that the full map? Even if this wasn't the entire file, that small bit of information alone inspired a sudden idea. He brought up the information of Power's travel itinerary on 47-9 Mark 3. He correlated the speed of the Power jumpship with the locations on the map with the times Power was located on that particular day. The numbers added up. If these locations were teleportation sites, then Power could have flown to the three distinct locations in three hours.

He shook his head. He had missed a breadcrumb. He had focused too much on the jumpship's technology, thinking it had to be the holder of any type of teleportation device. He hadn't considered that a teleportation device could be independent.

Could this map be the key to discovering the actual locations of teleportation technology?

If it did, was there a specific reason for these particular locations? If so, why?

And why did this file still exist in a lone data terminal inaccessible to Overmind? And could it be accessed at any other terminal out of the influence of the Machine Empire?

"This file was being accessed fourteen months ago?"

"_It was. From the Darktown terminal itself. According to the file, that was the first time the file was accessed by any terminal at any time since it was originally created over fifteen years ago."_

Fifteen years? Then it predated the Machine Empire. It was old technology.

"What of the file concerning the towns utilized as ecological experiments?"

"_That file was accessed only once fifteen years ago according to the database logs, my lord. The file was then hidden within the system and password protected. I found it because the password program controlling that particular file had degraded. However, the information itself had deteriorated over 73%. It is incomplete."_

An old file, then. A future plan from the past, not anything current. Must be. There were no towns now established as eco-domes. Perhaps old plans that the government tabled because of the wars? It didn't matter. It didn't concern Dread, so why worry?

But something or someone went out into that acid fog and accessed a terminal. How? Even the biomechs he sent there were destroyed by the fog in mere hours, the acid eating away at the metal, corroding it into dust. So who or what could have gone into Darktown to get the information? It was Power's first mission into the area as far as Dread knew. His probe had recorded part of the conversation between the Power Team, and what little he could hear from the quickly failing probe spying on the team indicated no familiarity with Darktown.

He brought up the Darktown information file on his computer. The intensive proton bombing during the Metal Wars had made it impassable. The quarantine areas... wait - why were there quarantine areas in an area that was unlivable and impassable? Who had declared them quarantine areas? Was that an old designation before the proton bombing? He checked the timeline for Darktown... the information was classified?

Dread sat back in his seat hard. There was nothing in the Machine database that was above his security clearance. He reached out to type in his access code - and stopped. With Overmind and Soaron behaving as if they were working against him, he didn't need to give them any ammunition to use against him by accessing a file Overmind might not want him to see.

However, it was easy enough for him to track who had access to the file and use their access codes to look at it. A quick check showed that transfer technicians had complete and unfettered access.

Transfer technicians?

Without any hesitation, Dread looked up a junior technician's access code and typed it in. At first, there were reports of the early experiments. Most of them were failures. Then there were schematics of newly developed technologies and attempts to perfect the anomalies. There were results, positive and negative - what he read next in the file absolutely stunned him.

"_Experimental transfer on Youth Leader Colville successfully placed human mental capacity in working biomech. Organic personality destroyed during transfer as designed by superiors. Also, as per the new orders, we informed our superiors that the results of the transfer weren't a success, and Lord Dread was informed that the transfer was successful. Require more subjects for further testing of partial-personality destruction and to act as the control group for an experiment of creating advance attack squads._

_This process is projected to create the necessary types of biomechs as ordered. As proof, the Aerial Defense Command and Recon Unit currently use only transferred biomechs and has had successful missions since the project's inception. However, recent tests are confirming theories that the various assault groups within the Empire require multiple levels of organic personality retainment due to the difference in logistics and battle tactics. A more intuitive form of biomech will be required for commanding biomechs and certain branches such as the Aerial Defense and Recon. It is suggested that not all of an organic personality be destroyed upon transfer. Request permission to retain varying percentages of organic personalities on the next test subjects upon completion of Sandtown cleansing in order to determine required levels. _

_It has become the firm belief of all transference technicians that the degree of personality to be retained and transferred into a biomech should be predicated upon the assignment the biomech will be given. We would also urge that youth leaders and overunits who are transferred be personality-retained to a greater extent due to the fact that their training would yield a higher percentage of successes in battles. A more intuitive biomech has proven to be more autonomous than a biomech with a non-personalitied-transferred mind._

_Lab-conducted experiments have yielded another anomaly. Biomechs with transferred minds have a lower threshold for pain. No amount of reprogramming has overcome this result because biomechs have no pain sensors. Superiors are testing if the pain felt by a biomech after being shot could be related to the phenomenon known as phantom pain felt by an organic when he or she has lost a limb. It is possible that the more of the personality is retained during transfer, the more connected mind and metalloid body become. The mind may think it feels pain when the body doesn't. Further testing will be required. _

_As to the question concerning the disposition of the transfer failures, it is suggested that all failures to transfer be sent to the quarantined sections of Darktown in Sector 19. The acid fog will completely destroy the biomech bodies within days."_

Dread had always known there were failures in the early years of developing the technology. He had been informed that the ones that failed to transfer correctly were sent to work in the mines or the foundries, yet now he learned that some were sent to Darktown.

Which ones? Why? And these 'new' orders they were given to tell him and their superiors different results? Who gave them these orders? And why was this kept secret from him? Who was playing some kind of game with them by having the technicians tell the transfer commanders that the experiment didn't work, telling him that it did and requesting more transferees. And if these technicians had the ability to transfer a percentage of the human personality and consciousness over to a metalloid body, why were they not transferring all of it?

Why? What was going on?

Wait, another memory danced across his mind. Colville. That name sounded familiar. He opened up the roster of youth leaders since the Dread Youth was first organized. Colville... Colville... right, Colville. Her name was listed with various others whose names he suddenly remembered: Youth Leader Colville, Youth Leader Chase, Overunit Wilson, Youth Leader Bardanaro, Youth Assistant Donaldson, Cadet Simmons, Cadet French, the top ten cadets that were graduating to youth leader that cycle upon a successful completion of the mission. They had been handpicked for a newly formed unit personally overseen by Dread himself to be the first large group of organics to be transferred to metalloid bodies. He had no concerns of the overunits, but the youth leader and the cadets' abilities in the field had yet to be tested. To solve the problem and prove their loyalty to Dread, he sent them on a mission to track down radios and communications devices hidden in various settlements, allowing the organics new ways to form resistance cells. Colville had been one of Dread's handpicked candidates. She had volunteered for an experimental transfer which had been a success - according to what the transfer technicians had told him.

That was right before the Sand Town cleansing.

That was the year Dread changed tactics when dealing with organic settlements because the radios indicated the beginnings of a unified resistance instead of small resistance cells. He gave orders for them to be destroyed, the people digitized, enslaved or cleansed and the towns razed. He wanted complete loyalty to the New Order and there was no room for dissension. He handpicked every single person on that new unit. They were the top performers in their classes. Their training-field ratings were the highest. He wanted a premiere team to be his advance squad, and the ones that were successful would be the first to be transferred into a new type of biomech, designed with more impenetrable metal with a longer life span. Some would be the leaders of the various branches of the Machine military - Ground Assault Squads, Aerial Defense and Recon Unit, Advance Tactical Units, even the Infiltration and Annihilation Teams. Some would be his personal guard. Most had returned from that mission and were successfully transferred with the experimental procedure - or so he had been told. One in particular had been pronounced killed at Sand Town, only Dread learned later on that Youth Leader Chase had defected, become a traitor to the Machine, and was now the pilot for the Power Team. Despite that one flaw, all had gone according to the first stages of a plan he had devised years earlier.

At least, what he believed had been his plan. If Colville's personality hadn't transferred, but the techs told him that it had, then what was going on behind his back, and why was he being lied to? Was Overmind being lied to? Then a darker thought crossed Dread's mind. Could Overmind be involved in the lies and cover-up? Was this part of some plan Overmind was orchestrating behind his back? Could Chase's leaving the Dread Youth and joining with a resistance team be part of some plan Overmind was conducting?

It was all more details in the mystery he was trying to solve.

Until he knew more for certain, he had to appear as if he wasn't aware of the subterfuge. He wanted to surprise the disloyal once he had all the information gathered and he dealt with them.

Subterfuge aside, Darktown was another part of the mystery. Metal corroded quickly there, within hours, and Soaron had no trouble surviving the acid fog. Soaron wasn't even completely mechanical. He had human brain engrams from one of the earliest transfer experiments, but no organic consciousnesses. Blastarr? His systems came under attack almost as soon as he arrived. Blastarr had many human minds in his processing system. Perhaps Power's interference with Blastarr's birth had degraded the quality of the biodread body itself? Dread was uncertain... no, uncertainty was not of the Machine. He knew the atmosphere was deadly to organics, and logic dictated that metalloid beings with organic minds were more susceptible to the acid fog than pure machines for some heretofore-unknown reason - unless biomechs with a human mind were more connected to the metal bodies than first imagined like the technicians had considered. That would explain why Soaron with his very few human engrams was less affected than the biomechs with transferred minds or Blastarr. Therefore, whatever had gone into the acid fog to access the file at the data terminal must have been pure machine.

Yet the Power Team had walked in to Darktown and come out unharmed, and they were purely organic. Perhaps those infernal suits of theirs had protected them? From what information Dread had, it wasn't the Power Team who had been there fourteen months earlier. There was no report of their being in the area.

So who retrieved this information?

A mystery to solve. Yes, as Sherlock Holmes himself once said as he quoted Shakespeare, the game was afoot.

Again, he spoke to the biomech's processor. "Were you able to get all the files not password protected?"

"_All that I could, my lord, but not all that were in the terminal. My circuits began to degrade beyond the point of being able to obey your orders."_

He needed that information. Dread pressed a button on his communicator. Within moments, a biomech appeared on the screen.

"_Yes, my lord?"_

"Group leader, I have a mission for you. I wish you to reconnoiter an area in Sector 19 known as Darktown. There is a data terminal at the former archives building. I want any and all data files that can be recovered. I don't care how many biomechs must be sacrificed in order to get this information. The future of the Machine Empire requires it."

"_At once, my lord."_

The answers to his mystery had to be in that terminal.

He shut down the biomech's processor, removed it from the computer, and watched it slowly begin to rust. Within hours, only a small pile of metallic ash would be left.

Ash and dust... the Old World was dying away, withering as time passed even though people like Power and the other Resistance fighters wouldn't let it die out altogether. Soon, everything from before would be nothing more than ash and dust as the Machine Empire became the powerful rulers of the world they were meant to be. Dread would rule the Machines as was his destiny.

For now, all he could do was wait, gather up the breadcrumbs, and figure out the small mysteries lying before him.


	30. Chapter 18 The Eden Road Part 2

**The Eden Road: Part 2**

**Angel City Saloon**

**(The day after the Power Team went into Darktown)**

The saloon was packed. Every seat was taken; people were leaning against the walls as they watched the goings-on and talked with friends. Some were dancing, some gambling, others were singing. The old piano was getting a workout that night as everyone who could remember how to play a tune took turns 'tickling the ivories.' And singing? When was the last time a packed house sang old songs? Heck, when was the last time there _was_ a packed house? Poker, blackjack, wait - did someone bring out the old roulette wheel?

The owner, Wade Brooks, came out of his back office when the noise rose to such a level that the pictures on the wall were shaking. He couldn't believe the huge throng of people! He'd never seen the place that crowded or the customers that happy in years.

If he didn't know better, he'd almost think it was a saloon in some of the western movies and TV shows filmed in the 20th century. He pushed his way to the bar, listening to some of the conversations going on as he walked.

"Any idea what's going on?"

"All I know is everyone started coming in and was having fun."

"I heard the noise and came in to check it out."

"I just won a sack of seed grain in the poker game. Need to get it home for the kids. Then I'm coming back to see if I can win anything else."

Wade finally reached the bar and took the first seat he could find.

The bartender walked over. "Whatcha want, boss?"

"Whatever's on tap. Do we have enough to last the night?"

Neil, the bartender, drew the owner a mug of beer and slid it down to him. "Yeah. People are buying and drinking like we haven't seen in years. We'll have to brew some more tomorrow though."

"Hey, Neil, need four more!" one of the waiters shouted over the din.

"Can you believe this crowd tonight?" another waiter asked Neil as he poured out more mugs of beer.

"Not really," he answered.

Neil filled yet another shouted-out order as Wade took a sip of his drink. "Have you heard what brought it on?"

Neil shook his head. "It's been like this for the last half hour. Rumor is something good happened today with Cypher's team. Probably had a successful mission. They came in here smiling and bought everybody a round. That sort of spurred folks in here to have a little party and then it kind of got bigger."

Wade glanced over at the private room in the saloon that he usually reserved for Cypher's team. They were all there, every active member of the Angel City Resistance. If Dread were to attack at that moment, he could wipe out the entire defensive army for Angel City. As he continued to watch, he saw everyone smiling, laughing, drinking. "It's not often Cypher's entire group comes by in that good a mood. Whatever mission they just went on must have been real good."

"Must have been. But whatever happened, Cypher ordered a round of the real stuff for his team tonight. I've got Kenny bringing up a new keg from the cellar."

The real stuff? Not the hard stuff they brewed out back? That was even more precious than fresh water! Not to mention expensive. "But they don't drink. At least, they hardly ever drink. It's always on a very special occasion."

Neil leaned over and said in whisper that only Wade could hear, "Whatever they did today, I wish they'd do it again. It's really good for business."

"Excuse me," a hooded figure approached the bar. "Beer?"

Neil smiled and drew another mug of beer from the tap. "Arvin? Is that you?"

The man removed the hood from his head. "That it is, Neil. How are you?" He extended his hand and the bartender shook it enthusiastically.

"Doing good. I didn't think you'd leave Oasis this time of year. What brings you here?"

Arvin lifted the mug and took a sip. "You didn't hear? We had to leave Oasis because Dread found us."

Neil leaned over and asked, "Was it a routine rousting or did he find out you were helping resistance groups?"

Arvin shrugged. "Neither. Blastarr was on the trail of Captain Power. He and the team pilot had crashed in the desert and came to us for help. Blastarr followed the radio transmissions to us, but I'll tell you this - we wouldn't have made it out alive if Captain Power and Corporal Chase hadn't been there to fight off that biodread. Came close to killing that pilot, but they got us out of there. Injuries and casualties on our side were low."

"That's good," Neil said. "Hey, have you ever met Wade? He owns the saloon."

Wade realized he'd been dragged into the conversation. He held out his hand to shake the newcomer's. "How do you do?"

"Fine. It's good to meet you. Neil says good things about you," Arvin told him.

"That's because I pay him every week," Wade joked. "Oasis, did you say? The water station in the desert?"

"That's the one. Or it used to be. We moved west to a town called Parmen. I'm helping set up a trade agreement with certain other towns, and Angel City was next on the list. I've got an appointment to talk to your town council tomorrow."

Wade nodded his head. "I think I heard something about that. Setting up trade between towns will be a good thing. It keeps us connected. Good thing to be in this day and age when we all need to help each other survive."

Arvin took a sip of the beer. "You know, I might have to ask for a few kegs in the trade agreement. Our home brew isn't this good."

Wade smiled at the comment. "It all depends on the quality of water and how good your copper pot is," he said.

"Water," Arvin nodded. "Good water's getting harder to find. We can't dig wells deep enough or fast enough." He took another sip of his beer. "Good stuff, Neil."

Arvin placed a small coin on the bar and pushed it toward Neil.

"Whoa. This came from Tucson, didn't it?" Neil asked him. "I haven't seen a Tucson coin in years.

Arvin nodded. "I was there about six weeks ago doing some trading, just before Dread attacked. I saw it from a distance afterwards. There wasn't much left though. I haven't found any survivors yet, so I have no idea what really happened there."

"Tucson too?" Wade asked. "I hadn't heard about it being destroyed."

Neil pointed his thumb toward the door. "Fellow who came through here a few weeks ago brought the news. Dread hit it with his Aerial Recon unit and both biodreads. A couple of battalions of biomechs. I haven't had anyone from Tucson come through the saloon. I thought everybody knew. Sorry, boss."

Wade waved his hand, dismissing the apology. It was impossible to keep up with all the places being destroyed. There were too many. And coins? Wade hadn't paid any attention to Arvin's money. To him, a coin was a coin. For a long time, money was useless until a barter system needed to be established, and goods were non-existent to trade with. Since there was no gold-based economy anymore, coins were merely tokens used for trade rather than for actual buying, and each settlement had their own 'minting' machine to produce coins. There was no standard of amount for each coin. Big, little, thin, thick, they were all absolutely worthless pieces of metal. What was it Wade had heard once? They were more like IOUs or promissory notes rather than currency? Who knows. It was a really bad system, but it was the only one they had.

Neil pushed the coin back. "Keep it. This one is on Cypher. He bought everyone the first round tonight."

Arvin smiled. "I'll have to tell him I appreciate it." He nodded his head at both of them and walked off toward the back of the saloon.

Neil shook his head and sighed sadly. "We lost Tucson _and_ Oasis. I thought that was one place that could be safe."

Wade moved his mug around in his hand. Another 'safe' place gone, another town destroyed, another group of people uprooted and fleeing for their lives or dead or digitized. "There's no real safe place anymore, buddy. I'm surprised Angel City is still standing."

"Another one, Neil!" a waiter shouted.

Neil poured out another mug of beer. "Angel City's pretty big. Maybe Dread doesn't want to attack big places right now?"

Wade almost chuckled. "He didn't think twice when he leveled Chicago, Atlanta, Washington, Los Angeles and New York. I think Angel City just isn't important enough for him to concentrate on at the moment since we're so far away from Volcania. Who knows? Maybe we'll wake up one day and find biomechs on our doorsteps."

"Let's hope not." Neil motioned for one of the waiters to got downstairs to the supply room and get more mugs. "Angel City's one of the last large settlements in existence. The ocean's on one side of us, nothing but desert to the south and dead ground to the north. We don't have a lot of places to run to. Maybe Dread thinks there's no sport in attacking us since we'd be sitting ducks."

That was the truth. Angel City was sort of a dead end when it came to location. Not easily defensible, in fact, they could be placed in siege with relative ease. Why survivors settled there, Wade didn't know, but there had to be reasons in the beginning or maybe someone just thought it was a good idea at the time. But that was then. This was now, and surviving the wastelands was their daily battle, not battling Dread even though that threat loomed over them every day. That had become their 'normal' lives. One day, the wars would be over with, Dread would be gone, and they could all get back to the business of living their mundane lives in the everyday work-a-day world.

Wade truly couldn't wait for life to get back to some semblance of remembered normality.

Within moments, another hooded figure approached the bar. "Beer?"

Neil poured out another mug and handed it to the newcomer. "Here you go. No charge for the first one tonight. I haven't seen you before. New in town?"

"Just passing through," the man said, his face hidden behind his hood. He thanked Neil for the beer and headed off to the secluded corner of the saloon.

"Even strangers are coming in, I see," Wade commented. "Yeah. Parties are really good for business."

~0~0~0~0~

**Private Room In Saloon**

A pitcher of real beer, a small indulgence rarely allowed because of how scarce and how expensive the real stuff was, sat in the middle of the table. Cypher did the honors of pouring each member of his team half a mug. Seven people, seven half-mugs.

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, for a battle well-fought and won in less than fifteen minutes, the round is on me," Cypher announced, his smile contagious.

They raised their glasses and clinked them in salute.

Cypher looked at all his team. Barry, the demolitions expert; Tate, communications officer; Andrea, weapons specialist; Zimmerman, Intel gatherer; David and Gemma, the youngest members who made up the support team. All still alive, all still intact. Not all resistance teams could make that claim. "Make 'em last because after buying a round for the house, this is all I can afford," Cypher suggested.

There was a knock at the door, and a rather non-descript individual walked in and handed Cypher a small disk. "Latest Intel on Dread's movements," the individual said as he nodded and then left the room.

"Dread's up to something," Andrea commented as she took a sip of her drink. "He's being more mysterious than usual. Wonder what he's up to."

"Who cares," Barry said. "He's always up to something." Then he put his elbows on the table and leaned toward Cypher. "So, bossman, you saw the Power Base yesterday, huh? When are you going to tell us about it?"

Cypher nodded and smiled. "That I did. Now I know why the Power Team always has nice uniforms and look well rested. It's like a military bunker with all the amenities. Everybody has their own quarters, they've got showers, they've got a small almost-working indoor garden. Weapons, spare parts - it's something else."

David hung on his every word. "Was it a bunker they found and took over like we did with our new base or did they build it?"

Cypher shrugged. "I don't know. I think it was one that was built before the wars. Or during. The equipment is pretty dated, and I know I saw some computer equipment that date right back to just before Dread took over. They could easily take in a few more people, but I think Jon wants to keep his team small for security reasons. I can't blame him for that."

"Think it was a famous place?" Andrea was curious. "If it was, we might be able to figure out where they are."

"I doubt it," Cypher answered. "They're too big on security. They flew me there blindfolded, and we didn't fly for very long. It couldn't have been far from Angel City because we were in the air maybe a half hour, but I saw a monitor receiving a transmission from an external sensor, and it didn't look like anywhere around here. It gave me the impression it was underground, but not like our base is. I don't think it was a converted subway tunnel or subterranean bunker. To be honest, I'm not really sure how to explain its location."

"A cave system maybe?" Andrea suggested.

Cypher considered that. Converted caves? "Maybe? There's no way for me to be sure. I do know I saw carved-out rock walls, but that could be some kind of disguised shoring instead of a carved out area."

Zimmerman leaned forward. "You flew in their ship. Rumors say that it can go five times the speed of sound. What do you think?"

"That jumpship?" Tate asked him. "It's an old TF model. They took a cargo ship and refitted it to be a carrier that doubles as a battleship. I know Pilot babies it and not even Tank would get a scratch on it and risk angering her, but the TFs were outdated before the wars. I'm surprised it's still flying."

"But it was fast, right?"

Cypher shrugged. "I don't know. I couldn't tell how fast it was going from inside the hold."

David put his mug down. "What's it matter, Zimmerman?"

"I just want someone to explain how Power's team can get from one point to another as fast as they do," Zimmerman challenged everyone at the table. "Cypher, you were the one listening to the radio calls when they helped out one group in New York and then another group in Nevada just a few hours later last month. If their ship can't fly faster than anything else out there, how are they covering that kind of ground that fast?"

Cypher cleared his throat. "I have no idea. I've seen Pilot get that ship to do tricks nobody else can. On the way to their base, I overheard her and Hawk discussing the ship's capabilities under certain conditions and how they could improve them. Tank said to just tell the ship that Jennifer wants something done, and the ship would do it automatically. No argument. Like it was a living creature. But as to how fast the ship goes, I couldn't detect it going any faster than we've seen it fly."

David shrugged. "So they've got a secret. Who cares? We all do. Besides, it helps them fight Dread, so good for them."

Cypher had to smile at that. David was not very curious about how others worked except those who worked with their team. As long as some other team was successful, like he said, good for them. It was Gemma's behavior that was a curiosity. He watched her silently sit there swirling the drink around in the mug. She was part of the current generation now becoming adults who were raised in the Wastelands all their lives. There was an understood mode of behavior that was accepted by Wastelanders, and it seemed to be instinctual, not taught. For instance, they didn't delve into other people's business. They didn't ask too many questions. They just 'accepted' life the way it was even though they were fighting to survive. It was a literary contradiction in terms, but not a contradictory existence. Gemma'd had a rough life up until the time he found her living off scraps in Tech City and brought her onto the team. One thing they'd taught her was that it was all right to indulge in a little luxury from time to time, something people living in the Wastelands couldn't do. It had taken her a few months to accept this idea, but it hadn't been an issue in a long time. So why was she not drinking? Cypher had the feeling something else was wrong. "Gemma?"

The girl stopped swirling her mug, leaned over toward Cypher, and whispered, "Something doesn't make sense to me about all this."

"What is it?"

Gemma took a moment to gather her thoughts. "For months, we've been going at a pretty good clip helping people find a safe place to live," she said, using one of their veiled euphemisms for their part in the Underground Railroad that got survivors to Eden II. "Every person we've helped there has reached it in relatively one piece. Everything was fine until the third part of the route got discovered. Now, when we had to get some more relocators, they only wanted to talk to Power, and that doesn't make sense."

Cypher couldn't completely agree with that. Jon's team was probably the best equipped to move even more people through to Eden II. They had resources everyone else could only dream about. He saw them.

"Using them doesn't make sense?" Barry asked. "Why not?"

Gemma shrugged. "What we do is on the hush-hush. We get away with what we do because we're not nearly as well known. Power's high-profile. Every move he makes is recorded somehow. Everywhere he goes, Dread finds out about it eventually. He's big news. Why have someone like that working as a relocator? There's no way they can do the job on the quiet side."

Now that was something Cypher hadn't considered.

"And I get that Power's famous and he's been heard of, but John told you he had never met him. He only knew about him. Still, they_ only _wanted to use Power? No one else would do?"

There was a round of cheers and groans as someone outside at the poker table drew to an inside straight. "Beats my two pair," was the one sentence they could hear over the din.

"Who knows," Tate answered. "Maybe they've got something in mind they need Power for. Does it matter?"

"Yeah," Gemma said. "It matters. Besides, Power's team is probably the busiest team out here. They're supposed to stop fighting Dread to be professional movers? As important as what we're doing is, what he's doing is even more important. What's he supposed to do, just stop fighting Dread for days at a time to be relocators? What happens to the war then?"

If there was one thing about Gemma that Cypher knew, it was that she could look at all sides of a situation and pick out the problems. He probably should get her started in tactics and logistics. She'd be good in that job.

Zimmerman drained his glass. "Maybe it's because people out here know Power and trust him and will follow him. If he says it's time to move, more people would move. Probably faster."

"Now they do," Andrea added. "Remember that guy that was pretending to be Power and promising to take people to safety? It turned out he was one of Dread's soldiers impersonating him? It took a while for that story to die down and people to trust Power again."

Zimmerman shook his head. "Nah, doesn't track. That was in a limited area and not many knew about that after the fact. There are some rumors, but no one believes them now."

Cypher hadn't thought about that incident in quite some time. "Lots of rumors," Cypher said, "but I don't think people trusting Jon is the reason why."

His team looked at him expectantly. He honestly didn't know why, all of a sudden, Jon's team had been recruited. Up until a few days earlier, none of his contacts from Eden II had ever mentioned Jon or the Power Team. "I don't know why, but I don't think that's the answer." Then he got very serious. "Look, I don't know why they wanted Power. All John told me is that they did, I was to ask Power for a meet and greet and tell him where to go. After that, it was all up to John and Power. We just keep doing our jobs the best we can. Besides, getting Power and John together was small potatoes. Today, we kicked some major biomech butt when we took out that clicker manufacturing facility. We destroyed the factory and three entire phalanxes and lived to tell the tale. Let's celebrate that."

They smiled, clinked their mugs together and decided to not worry about problems they couldn't do anything about.

~0~0~0~0~

**Dark Corner Of The Angel City Saloon**

Arvin sat in the dark corner of the saloon, his hands wrapped around his mug of beer. He watched the goings-on of the customers. For the first time in years, he was in the midst of happy, celebrating people. It felt absolutely surreal. If he didn't think about the way the world really was, he could pretend that there wasn't a war, that there wasn't a Dread and just remember what it was like to be out with friends and not have a care in the world.

Cares. He had a lot of them. Several months earlier, he'd been reminded of his role in the destruction of the world. He felt ashamed that he had innocently contributed so much. Events had to play out for him to recognize his own handiwork being used to brainwash Dread Youth. Now, all he could do was try to undo what damage he'd unknowingly and unwittingly caused.

Another hooded figure sat down at the table with him. A younger man, happier, more carefree - someone who had the distinct look that he hadn't had to struggle or fight to survive. He had the look of someone who had lived an untroubled life to some extent.

"A secret meeting held in plain sight of everyone in a packed saloon where no one can hear," the man commented, the hood of his jacket pulled low over his forehead. "An excellent subterfuge, but this is a first, Colonel."

"Call me Arvin," he said. "My colonel days have been gone for a long time. Besides, it was just an honorary title. I worked for some government departments and military branches, so they thought it was a good idea to give me some authority."

The other gentleman nodded and smiled. "I understand that." He nodded back into the main hall of the saloon. "The few times I've ventured out into the Wastelands, I've never seen a bar packed like this. It must be also be a rarity."

"It's not a typical night in Angel City," Arvin agreed. "I don't know what caused it. I heard Cypher and his team had a good day and it sort of spilled over, but the owner probably hasn't seen this kind of business since before the wars."

"Makes sense," the stranger agreed. "I understand life was very different back then."

"More than you can imagine," Arvin agreed. "And not to be rude, but I think it'd be safer if we talked somewhere else."

The hooded figure glanced around. "You think anyone can overhear us over this din?"

Arvin smiled. "Believe it or not, we're both a curiosity. I don't come here often and you've never been here at all. People aren't being obvious about it, but we're being watched because folks want to know who we are and what we're up to."

The other man considered the wisdom of Arvin's statement. "I agree. I hadn't thought about that."

Arvin smiled. "I'm staying at the inn. Strangers go through there all the time and it doesn't raise any eyebrows. Meet me in the lobby in about ten minutes. The innkeeper's a friend of mine and makes a fakeberry pie that's pretty good."

"Fakeberry?"

Arvin smiled. "You're in the Wastelands now. Food doesn't grow easily or well out here, so a lot of what we eat isn't 'real' by the usual definition."

~0~0~0~0~

**Angel City Inn**

There was a hint of "before" at the inn. A big fireplace, several tables, each with two chairs made of wood - a commodity not seen in a very long time, a chandelier with kerosene lamps to light the lobby... it had a very 1700's feel to it.

It was empty except for Arvin and the hooded figure. They sat at a table near the fireplace, tasting the fakeberry pie the innkeeper left for them.

"Extraordinary!" the hooded figure exclaimed. "I've never tasted anything like it. What's in it?"

Arvin ate another bite of pie. "Fakeberries, some sort of substance used as honey or what passes for honey these days, I have no idea what she uses for flour to make the crust, and I don't ask. I heard she found a way to use ground corn stalks for that, but I don't really want to know. Like a lot of others out here, she's been experimenting."

"Amazing," the man ate another bite of the pie. "And what's this drink?"

"Our version of coffee," Arvin explained. "We've figured out a way to use certain weed roots as a substitute.

The man took another sip of coffee. "It's very satisfying."

Arvin shrugged. "It's what we've been subsisting on for years. You're too young, but you should have seen what it was like out here before the wars."

"I've heard stories," the man answered. "I'd love to hear more."

Arvin thought for a moment, then smiled. "There was this five-star restaurant not far from where I lived. Five-star meant it was a very good restaurant. They cooked an inch thick filet mignon that was so tender, you could cut it with a fork. The chef prepared these exotic vegetables in some way... I don't even know how to describe it. And the dessert was this absolutely decadent chocolate cake with this delicious icing. Very expensive, but three times a year, they would have a special charity deal - bring an item for whatever charity they were sponsoring at that time, and get a full course meal for $30. It was lunch-sized portions, but believe me, $30 was very cheap compared to what they charged the rest of the time. One of these deals coincided with my wedding anniversary, so I'd take my wife every year. Another deal coincided with my birthday, and my wife would take me there as a present. The third time, our kids would take us out for dinner. It was about the only time we could get them all under one roof at one time."

The man leaned back in his chair as he listened. "It sounds like you enjoyed it."

"We did," Arvin confessed, his voice a little sad.

"Is your family here with you?

Arvin shook his head. "No. I lost them early on."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago," Arvin said as he took another sip of coffee.

The man paused for a moment before asking, "Where were you stationed before the Metal Wars and Dread?"

In all the years Arvin had known the man sitting in front of him, he'd never asked a personal question like that. That was... odd and unexpected. Their association was purely professional and concerned Eden II. Maybe there was a reason for such familiarity? Still, if he was wanting to be friendly and not just talk shop, Arvin was more than happy to comply. "Virginia. I was about to transfer from Fort Langley to Groom Lake when the first attack came," Arvin answered. "Both sites have a rather interesting history. You?"

The stranger looked around the lobby, taking in what, to him, had to be odd decorations. "I only remember Eden II. Lived there since I was a kid," he said.

"Your parents?"

The man thought for a moment. "My mother is a botanist and my father is an engineer. They've been instrumental in helping Eden II become what it is today." He took a deep breath. "However, we have more important things to discuss than our respective pasts."

Sitting there where no one could see them, there was a hint of privacy. Arvin still didn't feel comfortable despite the familiarity of the inn. And forgoing the niceties to get down to business? A good idea under other circumstances, but in the middle of a town where anyone could come in at any moment, some basic small talk was the best cover anyone could have. "So just for the sake of conversation, how about telling me what I can call you while you're here? Or do you mind if I use your name?"

The man tilted his head up and looked at Arvin. "I think John's a good name to use. That's how I'm known to everyone out here."

Arvin could see John's face. There was a look to his eyes that showed he'd never suffered the way the people in the Wastelands had. He'd never scavenged for food. He'd never seen loved ones killed or digitized. He'd never seen towns razed to the ground. He still had that hopeful look that thought the world could be a good place again because he'd never seen the bad. What would he do if Dread attacked at that moment?

"How did the meeting with Captain Power go?"

John suddenly had a surprised look on his face. "Absolutely everything you told us was accurate. Their suits are amazing. They withstood the fog for an hour. It's further proof that Stuart Power's technology has stood the test of time and others have carried on his work. The team works together seamlessly. Their capabilities exceed any other resistance team we work with or have observed. Your recommendation along with our own observations of the last six months and the meeting I had with them has definitely solidified a merger of our forces."

Arvin frowned at the doubletalk. "A merger. Interesting term. John, even I know that Eden's been using Power's technology and their network for its own purposes for a while now. This merger is just to get official use of that network. Eventually."

"Well, yes, but that's not the entire story," John said, his voice low. "I told the captain that we were aware of his father, that we knew of him but I didn't tell him how. Even Captain Power is unaware of his links with Eden II. Technological and otherwise."

Links? That piqued Arvin's interest. "Just out of curiosity, why the Power Team now? Why watch them for six months? He's been fighting Dread for years. They almost come with a guarantee of trustworthiness, but they're an obvious group. They can't work completely in secrecy, anonymity is not something they're trying to keep, and you want them to move people for us. Dread will be watching for them everywhere."

"A preemptive move," John assured him. "The Eden Council has decided to change strategy again. We learned through recent and not-so-recent errors in judgment that we should remain in the background as support and supply rather than take direct action against the Dread forces. Our experiences in the Wastelands are rather limited, we're not aware of all the cultural subtleties that exist and the Council feels that any more errors would harm the Resistance effort overall."

"Errors?"

John shrugged slightly. "War can be a learning experience. We've had our share."

More doubletalk, but Arvin knew John wouldn't elaborate. Yet. Information had to be coaxed and yanked from him a little at a time. It was one of the more annoying aspects of John's personality, but it was one that made him perfect for clandestine meetings in the Wastelands. He didn't give up information easily, so if captured, Eden II's secrets were safer with him than anyone else. "And Power fits in with all this... how?"

John took a deep breath. He looked around to make certain no one was coming into the lobby or listening to them. "For years, you were at Oasis helping Resistance teams when they needed it. You gathered Intel about Dread and his Empire for us. You and others in strategic positions were our eyes and ears in the Wastelands, but no one, absolutely no one could tell us anything with any certainty about the Power Team until you met the captain and the pilot. All we had was innuendo, second-hand information, a few eyewitness reports from refugees, and some folktales to go along with our own observations. There was no direct contact. None of our people had come face-to-face with any of them until you did. Such information was one of the reasons that compelled the Council to change strategy."

"And the new strategy includes them? And it comes after errors in judgment and my meeting them?" Arvin asked. When John didn't continue, Arvin sighed. "I've been helping out Eden for years. I've earned some trust."

"Yes, you have," John agreed. He frowned as if considering how to answer. Finally, he said, "For a long time, the Council viewed the wars in the Wastelands in a rather simplistic way."

"Wars in the Wasteland? Is that what you call them?" Arvin asked.

John nodded. "Before, yes. Now we know that everyone in the Wastelands have different terms for them so we have adjusted our definitions."

_Adjusted their definitions?_ Arvin was beginning to wonder if the people in Eden II had any idea of what life was really like outside their little slice of paradise. "Go on," he urged.

"Our people believed that if we could strike blows against Dread that were powerful enough to seriously damage his forces or help the Resistance fighters go up against him, that would give the Resistance and the survivors a greater chance of success. At least, that was the goal early on. In the beginning, the people in Eden II believed that there were strict battle lines. As time passed and our personnel began making more trips out to the Wastelands, they learned that wasn't quite the truth. Survivors did what they needed to do in order to survive, played both sides of the war, traded with both sides, and the ideas of where the battle lines were drawn were utterly blurred. There were no clear lines the further you looked beyond the seat of power. We didn't understand that. Some years ago, we tried to help unify the existing resistance forces by supplying communication systems -"

"Wait," Arvin interrupted. "Communications systems?" THAT was bringing back a memory. "You mean radios? Some years back? You were giving out radios to towns?"

John nodded. "Yes. You know about them?"

Arvin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Eden II had been the ones supplying radios to the settlements? THAT'S what spurred Dread's sudden change in tactics. That was the year he ordered not only Sand Town to be destroyed, but town after town and settlement after settlement. He began to brutally destroy any area that had the radios. Since he heard what happened that night in Sand Town during Corporal Chase's tribunal, Arvin had thought it had been a resistance group trying to unify the settlements, but it was Eden II? "You do know what Dread did when he found out about the radios, right?"

"Yes," John assured him. "It was our oversight. It was our mistake. We did not deliver the radios as secretly as we thought we had, and the radios did not operate on a frequency that couldn't be detected by Dread's sensors, so he discovered them. He eradicated the sites and the people, as I understand. That plan did not work as intended."

_Didn't work as intended?_ Talk about understatement!

"We did learn from our mistakes on that endeavor. We knew a more clandestine, untraceable attack on Dread's forces would have to be targeted precisely, so we orchestrated one. It did exactly what we projected it to do, but what we didn't know is that it took out more than just Dread forces. It affected survivors and Resistance soldiers as well. During our recon of the Wastelands after that mission, we learned that our attempt did untold damage to the Resistance and the civilians, and we had no idea. After that, we decided to leave the fighting to the soldiers and we would stay in the background and assist after we'd been asked for help."

John talked a lot, but he didn't really say much, Arvin noted. "A precision attack against Dread that hit others as well? When?"

"A few months ago," John said.

Months... months... the only thing he could think of that matched that description in the past months was... "Wait, that virus some months back?"

"Yes," John admitted. "We designed the bacteria to focus on the slight difference in a Dread Youth's DNA strand, and -

"Eden created that virus that was designed to kill the Dread Youth? The one that took out most of the population at Medlab One?"

John nodded, looking confused.

"Do you have any idea the ramifications if anyone finds out Eden was behind that?" Arvin whispered. "The idea of that kind of germ warfare... do you know what that did to an entire region? How it decimated the population there?"

John once again nodded. "The intent was to devastate Dread's forces. We didn't realize that the strain would affect everyone else as well. It had no effect on anyone in Eden when we tested it in our lab."

"And it never occurred to any of your scientists that people out here in the Wastelands and the people in Eden might have developed a difference in their immune systems?" Arvin couldn't believe the shortsightedness of the group he was working with or the man sitting across from him. "Dread blew up Medlab One not only to stop the spread of the sickness but to cover up the fact his Dread Youth were vulnerable to any disease," Arvin explained in a very low voice. "Countless others died from it. Innocent people who weren't Dread Youth."

"We know," John said. "That was part of the reason we changed strategy."

Part of the reason? John was behaving as if these were classroom questions to a hypothetical event and not people's lives! Did he honestly not see the human cost in what they'd done because they hadn't considered the contingencies or the consequences? "What's the rest of it? You still haven't told me why you wanted Power so desperately. What was the preemptive move for?"

John took a breath. Obviously, he recognized the fact that what he'd said was not being well received by the long-time Eden II associate. Finally, he said, "First, we found a way to access an important part of Stuart Power's technology. It was completely by accident. One of our agents was in the right place at the right time and stumbled across the information. We know how to make it work, but we don't understand how it works and we don't know how to repair it should it break down or expand on it, and it's critical to keeping the railroad going. Captain Power understands his father's technology, the power suits and other aspects of the sciences his team uses, so..." he paused.

John was using Power technology? Wait... recent reports indicated that there was chatter inside Dread's forces. They were wondering how Power moved around the country so quickly. If Eden II had discovered how - "Does this have anything to do with _how_ you move people to Eden II?"

John shrugged. "Let's just say it's a trade secret. However, since we're using his technology secretly, we have no doubt that we'll need Captain Power eventually."

They needed someone who understood the technology Eden II was stealing. Okay, that made sense. "What kinds of technology?" he prodded again. Maybe he could get John to trip up and tell him more than he intended?

John fidgeted slightly. "Some we found accidentally, some was given to us, some was found in a database over a year ago. Stuart Power was very innovative in his inventions."

Database? John was hedging. Arvin knew that the chances of finding any database with any scientific information were slim, yet Eden had found it? "You have access to a database? It'd have to be one Dread can't get to."

"It's one _Overmind _can't get to," John corrected quickly.

That meant it wasn't connected to the vast computer system Overmind controlled. "Eden's not hooked up to any outside database, is it?" he surmised.

"The designers weren't going to take the chance of them getting the systems taken over by an outside source, so we're not hooked up to any other computer," John explained. "When we discovered this database, we learned that it was designed with similar systems as our own. We were able to access its systems without any trouble or risking our own security."

"And second?"

John leaned forward. "The Power Team is at the forefront of the fight against Dread. As such, they would be perceived as being too busy to be working with Eden. No one would ever suspect them. In a way, it's a perfect cover."

Arvin leaned forward. "That's probably the least logical excuse you could give me. I take it there are some more preemptive motives behind that?"

"In a tangential way," John cut himself another piece of fakeberry pie. "Imagine the influence Eden II could gain after the wars are over and Dread's defeated if we're associated with someone like Captain Power. If he thinks we're worth risking his life for, if we're worth risking his team to help move people to safer locations, doesn't that give us a little more prestige than we would already have?"

Arvin could believe that. He'd seen that particular attitude too many times over the years. Reflected glory, it was called. Status by association. "They are well known, well-respected and have some interesting backgrounds."

"Not only that," John ate another bite of pie, shaking his head at the amazing taste, "we've learned that the Power Team has more connections to Dread than any other and are fighting him. It's personal with them. People know that. Stuart Power worked with Dread obviously. Captain Power has known him since he was young so he understands him. Hawk is also acquainted with him. Tank was engineered at Babylon 5, and the pilot was a former Dread Youth. I have yet to determine Scout's connection to Dread, but given the backstory of the others, I can only assume that he would have one. Each person has such a different history, yet they're all connected to Dread in various ways. It's created an incredible unity among them. People see it, people respect it, and that has to be deemed an asset for our purposes."

"You are aware of some of the shortcomings of the Power Team, right?" Arvin poured them both some more coffee.

"A former Dread Youth? A former Babylon 5 soldier? Two people who knew Dread from before? I'm well aware that their strengths are also their weaknesses. There was some debate, but the Council doesn't believe that their backgrounds would ever be detrimental to our overall plans. In fact, they have a type of training that could be useful to building an army. We're not unaware of the fact that we may be dragged into this war physically at some point, and we need to be prepared." John took a sip of coffee. "This really is good," he commented. "We believe that this team possesses knowledge and training that could be beneficial to everyone as a whole in the future."

Arvin had to agree. They were a unique group. A Dread Youth that broke the conditioning. A Babylon 5 soldier that was spared the madness. A computer expert and demolitions technician that could hack into any system in existence. A former Air Force fighter pilot who has a vast knowledge of past and present aerial forces and capabilities, and a captain who was a folk hero with the knowledge of a technology that Dread had no understanding of. "I've only met the captain and the pilot once. If they're anything to gauge the reactions of the others by, they'd do anything to help, but I don't think they'd agree to being used like that."

John shook his head. "It's politics, Arvin. That's all. Sometimes, it really does come down to who you know, not what you know. When Dread is defeated, the people will need leaders that they trust and can believe in. Eden is separate and safe. Why would anyone out here want to trust any of us when it comes to helping rebuild? If they see someone they trust trusting us, then that will help us in the long run."

Arvin nodded and smiled. "Right. Preemptive." John still wasn't being completely forthcoming. Arvin understood his dilemma. There was only so much information he could divulge without getting into trouble. "And third?"

"What makes you think there's a third?"

"There's always a third," Arvin told him.

John smiled. "That does seem to be the case, doesn't it? Well, the request to put Captain Power and his team on the railroad relay did not originate with the Council. It came from several of our supporters out here. They wanted someone they knew they could trust from here working with us. Some of these were merely recommendations; some were outright threats that if we did not include the Power Team, they would withdraw their assistance. These five individuals inspire incredible loyalty from people they've never even met."

So Eden was bowing down to public pressure. That was good to know. They actually paid attention to what people who knew what they were talking about were actually saying.

Arvin had to agree. "When I met Captain Power and Corporal Chase not long ago, their actions convinced me that all those stories I'd heard about them were true."

"As we're finding out as well," John concluded.

"Fourth?"

"You think there's a fourth?"

"Why wouldn't there be?" John asked him.

John shook his head. "There are other reasons, but none that need be discussed at this point in time. Now to business. It seems that Dread is taking a greater interest in Power's technology. _Stuart_ Power's technology, not the captain's. There were biomechs all over Darktown when I got there. I wasn't expecting that. They were accessing files from the data terminal near the meeting site. Blastarr showed up later but his systems couldn't handle the fog."

"Wait." That linked back to a previous statement. "Don't tell me - the database terminal you've been accessing Power's technological information from, the one that Overmind can't access is _in Darktown_?"

John nodded. "I shut it down and then hit the self-destruct on it after the Power Team left and secured the area, but that takes away a primary source of Intel for us. Not our only one, but an important one."

"A data terminal in Darktown is an Intel source? How is that possible? Everything metal corroded and wasted away in that acid fog."

"It was shielded. One of Stuart Power's inventions that we utilized. The shields had been working fine for over fifteen years but some of the parts were aging and starting to corrode despite the shielding. It was growing weaker over time because of non-maintenance. We tried to repair them so we could continue monitoring certain areas, but like I said, we don't really understand Power's technology. It was a rather hodge-podge repair. We don't know what information the biomechs got out of the terminal. I need you and our other operatives to keep an eye focused on Dread, try to find out exactly what he was looking for and what he got."

Dread had found information Eden had kept secret until now. That wasn't good. "Any ideas?"

John shook his head. "No, and I have a feeling that not knowing could be deadly somewhere down the road."

"What now?" Arvin asked.

John thought about his answer. "I know you're here to set up trade between Parmen and Angel City. We've considered opening up smaller relocation railroad hubs in various locations, and a trade route could be a good cover. I'd like you to see if you think this idea is viable given current conditions on the West Coast."

More railroads? That sounded like a good idea. They'd have to find more relocators. "All right," Arvin agreed.

John drank a few more sips of his coffee. "Is this what coffee tasted like before?"

"Not even close," Arvin chuckled. "When it's all you've got, you learn to love it."

John pushed the mug away from him and ate his last bite of fakeberry pie. "That is so good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to contact Cypher and have him contact the Power Team with some information."

"What kind?"

"Their railroad hub location. I think it would be better security if Cypher was their local railroad contact. The team already knows that his team is involved, his team knows Power will be involved, so their talking to each other about Eden concerns is already a done deal."

"Cypher's probably still at the saloon," Arvin told him. "They've got a private room in the back."

"But he's never met me," John quickly explained. "He only knows my voice over the radio. Anonymity is one thing that can't be compromised in our operation. It's better if I contact him by radio."

Radio.

It had been a radio, a small electronic device that had changed the course of history on that fateful night in Sandtown, what changed the course of the Resistance. Only until that moment, Arvin had not understood how interlinked so many lives were and how they were coming together at that time.

~0~0~0~0~

**VOLCANIA**

**Days later**

Beethoven. Dread listened as another classical piece began to play. He refused to play the Fifth Symphony. He'd heard it so many times in his youth; those four notes at the beginning annoyed him. He was in the mood for the Four Seasons by Vivaldi, but he couldn't find it in the database.

But he did find one of his favorite Swing songs - Jumpin' Jack. Actually, the one version he found wasn't the original. The sound was too, well, the only word he could use was 'technological.' The recording was made late in the 20th century so it didn't come from the Swing era itself. He'd listen to it later, when absolutely no one could hear it.

He looked at his chrono. How long did it take for a biomech to recon an area and report back? The biomech had proposed a plan - keep most of the troops away from the fog and send in only a few at a time. Each team would download as much of the information as they could and send it back to a portable storage file, then once they succumbed to the fog, the next team would go in and start where the previous team had been forced to stop. More information could be retrieved and kept safe from the fog until their mission was completed. It was a logical plan, but it was taking too long. Dread wanted that information.

Finally, after waiting for so long, Dread heard, _"My lord?"_

It was the biomech. Dread switched on the secure frequency that Overmind couldn't access. "What have you found?"

"_The data terminal here in Darktown was destroyed,"_ the biomech explained. _"The explosive used is unknown to my databases."_

Destroyed? That wasn't good. He didn't have enough information from that terminal! "It must have been destroyed by someone other than the Power Team. It was in existence before they left the area according to the information I was able to gather from the other biomechs before they expired."

"_It is possible, my lord, but my sensors are damaged. I cannot determine if there is any evidence indicating who destroyed the terminal."_

Of course not. "Is it possible to determine if any information still exists?"

"_No, my lord. There is nothing left. Not even debris. It is not possible to log into the data system now."_

That means he couldn't get any more information out of that terminal, and it would be a waste of resources to send in any more troops. "Remain there," he ordered. He did not want any information from any biomech on this project reaching Overmind. Remaining in Darktown would take care of the problem.

"_Yes, my lord."_

Still there was no new clue to help him discover the answer to his mystery. All he had were the few bits and pieces that maybe hinted at an answer.

What to do, what to do...

There was nothing else he could do at that moment.

Instead, he flipped a switch on a console. Who cared who was listening in? Jumpin' Jack began to play. Then he reached behind an open console and pulled out an old book. The cover was weathered and torn, the pages almost falling out. It had been a book he loved to read when he was younger.

Maybe Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson could help inspire his own deductive reasoning.


	31. Chapter 18 The Eden Road Part 3

**The Eden Road: Part 3**

**Power Base  
(The day after the Power Team went into Darktown)**

There were some things in life, no matter how large or small, that made a profound difference in someone's everyday routine. Huge events, tiny moments, it didn't matter. Sometimes, it was just some little something that could change everything.

Take an object as simple as an orange, for example. An uncomplicated, round, soft-fleshed bit of citrus that had been planted, grown and harvested in real soil, not a hydroponics lab and make it _real_. The very idea that something like that still existed was staggering. Yes, there were still some farming communities in existence, and root vegetables could grow well in some areas of the country, but the food was becoming more stunted each year since the nutrients in the soil couldn't be replenished easily or well. Harvests were becoming smaller and smaller each year. For a healthy, juicy orange to exist in the world they lived in - well, it just meant that the impossible was possible. Something as small as an orange had been the little something that made a profound difference in the everyday lives of five people.

Yet some things remained the same. For instance, their hydroponics lab was one of the few things that the team could point to and say _this is something Stuart Power was shortsighted about_. He'd originally designed it for limited small-scale experimentation. It had not been built to last for fifteen years as a fully-operational indoor 'greenhouse' facility growing enough plants to feed a five-person team. Adapting to large-scale use had proven problematic even for Scout and Jennifer's talents. A true hydroponics lab would have crops grown in water or some kind of mineral nutrient solution. They didn't have anything like that. They couldn't replicate enough of any type of nutrient solution to stock a hydroponics lab. Instead, they literally built dirt beds to grow their crops in. They had streamlined the power supply, redeployed resources, reconfigured greenhouse lamps, and tried to modify specific hydroponics equipment all in an effort to increase their own personal food production, but the internal structure and wiring were woefully lacking. Jury-rigging equipment had become an art form. The lab might not have been working _right_, but it was working.

Yet, even after all that time and work, trading with the hydroponics lab at the Passages was easier.

So when time permitted, Scout could be found working on various items in the lab, recruiting anyone with some spare time to help him. Sometimes it felt like a losing battle or that the lab was fighting them. It wanted to be a hydroponics lab, not an indoor greenhouse, and it fought all efforts to change it - at least, that's what Scout had jokingly said from time to time. Now that they had orange seeds - honest to goodness _real _orange seeds - the lab _had_ to work right.

"How's it coming?" Hawk asked him.

Scout tightened the new lamp into place and then glanced at the water pipes. They were rusting in places and needed replacing, but that wasn't happening any time soon unless they could barter for waterproof pipes. "Slowly," he answered. "Give me a few more minutes to work on this area."

Hawk looked around the room. It wasn't big, maybe twice the size of any of their personal quarters? "You know, I knew Stuart for years. I'd watch him stare at building plans with an engineer for hours trying to get a specific design perfect, but this lab? I know I've said it before, but I'll say it again. This is one of the few things Stuart didn't think out. Or ran out of time before reworking this place."

"Ah, we'll get it fixed. Someday," Scout said as he stood up on the platform to work on the pipes. "And let's face it, Stuart was a brilliant scientist, but nobody can think of everything. My guess is he ran out of time." He tightened one of the supports holding the pipes above the dirt bed. "I'm guessing he could have built an Eden II of his own if he'd had more time." Then, he stopped tightening the support. "Eden II... Eden II..." Then he got quiet.

"Rob?" Hawk asked. "What's wrong?"

"Why is it called _Eden II_? Since it's a _II,_ then does that mean there's an Eden _I_? And an Eden _III_? Are there a bunch of Edens out there and we just don't know about them? Or is this the only one that's left?"

Hawk shrugged. "I thought because there was already a Garden of Eden, this one would be the second one."

"What if it's not?" Scout asked as he went back to his work. "What if there are several Edens out there? What if they're all filled with refugees from the Wastelands and we just don't know about them yet?"

Hawk's expression changed with an idea. "Maybe we could get something more than oranges?" he smiled. "Bananas... it's been a long time since I had a banana split. But then we'd have to have ice cream. Apples, blueberries - Joanna's mom was a professional baker. Even studied at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris when she was young. She could make the best pies and pastries, but the best thing she made was blueberry pancakes. From scratch. I didn't even like blueberries until I had her pancakes."

"Imagine if we could have corn on the cob," Scout lamented. "I had that a few times when I was a kid. Some cornfields were still growing near where we lived and we could get a few ears of corn from time to time. My mother would roast them in the husk over the fire. They were delicious."

Tank walked into the lab with a big box of soil. Fresh soil with nutrients was as rare as cut diamonds, but putting nutrients back into soil they dug up from deep beneath the surface dirt was not easy either. Again, it was a resources problem. Re-nutrifying half-depleted soil meant having the nutrients required, and that was the resource they were short of. "Fifty pounds," he announced as he set the box on the floor. "Will that be enough?"

Scout nodded his head. "With what's already here in the plant bed, it should be. Go ahead and dump it in."

Tank hefted the box back up and scattered the dirt over the bed. "Is anything else planted here?"

"Nah," Scout answered as he reached into his tool belt for a wrench. "This is the one that had the water drainage control units stop working. Jennifer did some trading at the UTO a few months ago. Traded fuses for 'gardening' circuits. We think we've got it fixed. The other bed has our current crop growing in it because it hasn't broken down in months. In any case, the seeds should feel comfy once we get everything set up." Then, he removed a small remote from his pocket and pointed it toward a computer console. Soft jazz floated from the speakers.

Hawk listened for a moment, then asked, "Coltrane?"

Scout nodded. "I'm helping out with an experiment. Remember some old studies that said plants grow better with certain types of music?"

That did ring a bell. "Yeah. Something about harder music killing the plants and classical music being good for them?"

"Yep. Chelsea's been experimenting with music at the Passages. I've been helping her by finding examples of all sorts of music and taking them to her."

"Helping her?" Hawk asked.

"Yeah. She loves music too. Used to play the piano. Anyway, she's been researching databases and found some of the studies that say certain plants grow better with certain types of music. Low frequency sounds seem to work with most, but she swears that plants like carrots and potatoes that grow underground love baroque music. Plants on vines like tomatoes and peppers prefer music with wind instruments. She's experimenting with different types of fruits and vegetables with hard and soft outer skins -"

"Wait a minute," Tank interrupted. "I remember something about that. There was some disagreement if music made a difference at all with plant growth."

Scout shrugged. "Probably still is, but it's something Chelsea's interested in finding out. If it can help boost plant growth, it'd be worth it."

"Good point," Hawk agreed. "And Chelsea is doing these experiments, huh? And you're helping her out by playing jazz in our lab?"

"And does Patricia know you're helping out Chelsea?" Tank added.

Scout gave them both a dirty look as he adjusted another control on the hydroponic bed. "Okay, Hawk. It's as ready as it's gonna get."

Hawk looked at the orange seeds as he carefully poked a few holes in the dirt and dropped them in. He sighed. "It's a shame. These little seeds grew in real dirt, and now we're planting them in here."

"It's the only way we'll have oranges," Tank reminded him. "That is if we can keep the equipment working. If we can get our lab to triple its capacity, then next time we talk to anyone from Eden II, maybe we can ask for more seeds."

"Or more oranges," Scout suggested. "It'll take years before we get anything even resembling an orange from these trees, and that's if they even become trees." He double-checked the controls on the watering system. So many of the systems needed a complete overhaul, but that would mean taking them offline for too long. They'd lose a few meager harvests themselves. "Maybe we could set up some kind of trade route with them?" Drat it, the waterpipe had some air in it. He pulled out the wrench and began to make minute adjustments.

"They move people there," Tank reminded him. "It'd be easy enough to set up a trade route back to here."

Another quick turn of the wrench, and the waterpipe was functioning at 100%. "As long as we don't have to go to Darktown. That is one trip I don't want to have to make again," Scout murmured as he put away his tools. "Acid everywhere, malfunctioning biomechs..." he paused before adding, "although watching Blastarr act like that and fall flat on his face was pretty good entertainment. Maybe we could bottle up that acid into a missile?"

Tank chuckled. "Send Blastarr on an old fashioned acid trip?"

Scout laughed. "I didn't know that could happen to machines. He was losing it faster than the biomechs were. Maybe because he was bigger?"

Hawk shrugged. "What I want to know is if Eden expects us to use the route through Darktown to move people. There's no way to get people through there. That fog was so bad, Jennifer wouldn't fly the jumpship near it."

"A lot of what we saw and did doesn't make sense," Scout muttered. "Why go to Darktown in the first place? Why does Eden II have a safe place in that one lone building in the middle of all that? Do they meet there? And if they do, why? What's the point? They're in Eden II so they're already secure, and no one can get through Darktown because of the fog so who are they meeting? There are a lot of secure locations we could have gone to meet John. Why there? We had to fight through biomechs and walk all that way -"

"I'd say it was a test," Jon said as he entered the hydroponics lab and looked at the new row that would hopefully yield orange trees soon.

Hawk frowned. "Why a test? John said he knew about us, so what was he testing us for?"

"To see if we lived up to our reputations would be my guess," Jon explained. "Think about it. If it had been us requesting to meet up with a group whose reputations we had only heard about but never met and we wanted them for something important, we'd probably want to see if they lived up to the hype. He got to see that our suits were almost impervious to the fog. We had to fight our way through the biomechs that were there -"

"Why were biomechs there in the first place?" Scout asked suddenly. "There's nothing to guard."

"I don't know. Dread must have sent them in there for a reason." Jon sat down on the platform. "They were guarding that data terminal, so it must have been important if he was willing to have hundreds of biomechs get destroyed by the fog."

"I still haven't figured out how that thing was still functioning," Scout muttered. "It should have been toast after the first proton blast years ago."

"So should the laser door," Jon added. "I'm guessing that since John had that location protected from the fog somehow, maybe the terminal was protected as well? There has to be some reason to keep certain areas safe in the middle of all that."

Jennifer walked into the hydroponics lab, a reader in her hand. "Cypher just sent word to us that the Eden II contact was very impressed with us, and John has sent the instructions about where they want the new hub." She handed the reader to Jon. "Nothing there gives us any indication where the actual location of Eden II is."

"My guess is south," Scout called out. "Or west. Oranges? Has to be a warm climate, and there aren't that many areas that still get sunshine enough to grow oranges like that one."

Hawk grabbed a towel to clean his hands. "Vi said she had to go north to meet up with the Eden rep, and they were in Sector 24. That's southwest of us." He thought for a moment. "There's no way they could grow oranges in the north, is there? That ground can barely support what little crops that still grow there."

"Haven grew food," Scout reminded them. "And good stuff too, and they had a hydroponics lab there. Maybe it's possible to grow real food like that?"

Hawk chuckled. "I can tell the difference, but you're right. Ever since Chelsea went to work at the Passages, the vegetables we've traded for have been a lot better. They just don't have enough."

"Too bad we had to destroy Haven," Tank added. "We could have used the food there."

"Too bad it didn't take out Blastarr," Jennifer said.

Scout laughed. "Acid fog does though," he almost sighed. "We need to find a way to use that as a weapon. And look at what it did to those biomechs! They were going down on their own. Didn't work as well as an EMP blast, but I'm not complaining."

Jennifer pointed toward the reader. "The good news is we won't have to go back to Darktown again any time soon. Our starting point on the railroad is located in southern Colorado. Cypher brings people to a particular location, then we go pick them up and get the coordinates to take them to from there. Apparently, Eden II is thinking about having various paths to take to get from hub to hub instead of just one route."

"Colorado's convenient," Hawk said. "Wonder if they know where we live."

"Let's hope not," Jennifer mused. "Also, Cypher got some Intel that indicates Dread sent those biomechs into Darktown in just the last few days. No one knows the exact date or reason."

Scout laughed. "That info's a day late and a dollar short."

"That means they were sent in right before we got there," Tank observed. "That explains why those biomechs weren't acting right. Even if their systems were already falling apart, they were acting very strange."

"What do you mean?" Jennifer asked.

"When Scout approached them in his hologram, they saluted him."

"And?" Jennifer asked.

That got everyone's attention. "Why would they salute him unless there's a hierarchy in the biomechs?" Tanks asked her.

"Because there is one?" she answered, clearly amused.

Scout raised his hand. "Clueless people request explanation from expert please," he joked.

Jennifer smiled. "There is a type of hierarchy in the biomechs depending on how they're programmed. Some are programmed with specific jobs in mind. Some have a broad-spectrum programming that allows them to do a variety of tasks. Those at the data terminal were sentries. In comparison to our military ranks, they'd be like the privates and the corporals. The one in charge could be considered a sergeant."

"Huh. Machines aren't equal," Hawk observed. "Imagine that."

"No, not really," Jennifer pointed out. "The ones with human minds would be higher up in the hierarchy and get more responsible positions, but I doubt if any of the biomechs we met up with in Darktown were transferees. That'd be a waste of mental resources for Dread."

Hawk turned on the sun lamps so the orange seeds could begin the growing process. They sputtered and hissed and went out. Hawk slapped the side of the light shield and the lamp came back on. "I never thought to compare Dread's forces to our military. I thought it was just cadets, youth leaders, and overunits."

"And commanders and a few other ranks you probably haven't run into," Jennifer teased.

Hawk was clearly interested. "So what would a youth leader be the equivalent of in the army?"

Without missing a beat, Jennifer said, "A captain."

"Captain?" Scout repeated.

Jennifer shook her head. "Generally speaking, but I was a youth leader assigned to Aerial Recon. Don't forget that. That's the first strike group of Dread's Air Forces. And by comparison, a youth leader in that particular branch has a lot more authority than your typical youth leader. That would be on the same level and authority as a colonel in the army. And if I had been Overunit Chase in Aerial Recon, I'd have had the authority equal to an army general, answerable only to Dread and Overmind."

"No majors?" Tank asked, clearly smiling at the idea.

"No, not really. At least, not the way we think of majors. There's nothing in Dread's army that fits that description or authority or responsibility."

"What about commanders?" Hawk asked.

"Commanders are more autonomous officers that provide a variety of tasks. Most are used for infiltration or reconnaissance. I don't know why. Some are the personal assistants of the overunits but they're more like spies who answer to Dread. Some are involved in getting prisoners for the factories or other facilities. I think they're Dread's eyes and ears more than anything. They're his special guard, soldiers personally selected by Dread and Overmind for whatever reason... at least, that's what I was always told."

~0~0~0~0~

Jon listened. There was a bit of truth-shading in that explanation. Jennifer deliberately didn't tell them that she had been promoted to the rank of overunit. He understood her reluctance. It wasn't something she was proud of or comfortable with. But a colonel? Even a general? He forced himself not to smile at the sudden realization. Although she had been promoted and hadn't had the chance to use it officially, she outranked him as a Dread soldier. In fact, she had been the superior officer ever since she got her orders to go to Aerial Recon.

"What about youth leaders in other branches of Dread's forces?" Jon wanted to know.

"Most have the authority of a captain," she said with a smile. "It all depends on where they're stationed and what they're doing that determines their place in the Corps hierarchy."

"Quick question," Tank asked. "In Aerial Recon, you'd have had the authority of a colonel? When were you ever going to tell us you outranked _all_ of us?"

Jon laughed out loud at the question. He wasn't the only one surprised at this new revelation.

Jennifer smiled. "Maybe when you guys joined the Dread Youth? Then I could order you around," she joked.

"All of us in the Dread military?" Hawk mused aloud. "I don't know... even if we were sent to Aerial Recon, we'd all have to be pretty good pilots. Those folks are good. Any time we've gone up against those ships, they've almost out-maneuvered us."

"Jennifer's outflown them every time," Scout corrected him as he tossed his wrench back into the toolbox.

"That's just because I know a few tricks they don't," she explained.

"And you've got a jumpship that'll fly through hoops for you - even if you haven't found a name for her yet," Scout said with a smile. "But good or not, I don't think those cockpits in Dread's fighters are big enough for someone Tank's size.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Tank said, pretending to be menacing.

Letting the other three have their fun little conversation, Hawk walked over to Jon and nudged him on the shoulder. "Did you know about her outranking us?"

Jon shook his head. "No, I didn't know about this. Explains a few things though." He smiled at her.

"What?" Hawk asked.

Jon just shrugged and smiled. "Why she doesn't really follow orders sometimes." That was the moment Jennifer glanced back at him, and he had the odd feeling that she knew exactly what he'd just said. "I think I'll stop there before I get into trouble," he said.

"Smart move," Hawk said, patting Jon on the shoulder. He had this odd look on his face, as if he was considering this new information.

"What?" Jon asked.

Hawk looked back with an innocent look on his face. "What, what?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing much. It's just the idea that she outranks all of us. It's... amusing."

Amusing? That wasn't a word Hawk would usually use. Jon glanced back over at Jennifer and saw the subtle grin. They alone knew the secret of her promotion, and they alone knew the special context of the mission where the phrase 'pulling rank' had a distinct meaning for them. Maybe this bit of news gave them a few more in-jokes to play with? Their eyes met, and Jon shared the subtle grin with her. If anyone else saw the look Jon and Jennifer shared, no one said anything.

Jon cleared his throat. "Okay, everybody, I need your suits. That acid fog didn't do them any good. I need to run a systems check on the wiring and make certain everything's in good working order."

~0~0~0~0~

Eden II. Jon still couldn't believe it. It was real. Vi and the Wardogs were there. At least, that's what Jon wanted to believe. All they had to go on was Cypher's word and a piece of cloth with what Hawk believed was Vi's handwriting. And if it was true, if Eden II did exist, then the Wardogs had made it. Others had made it there as well. They were safely out of Dread's reach - if it was all true.

But to be safe? Jon couldn't remember the last time he felt 'safe.' Even in a secret base, there was always the ever-present threat of discovery. There was always the idea dancing in the back of his mind that one day Dread would find them. That dream he had some months back of Blastarr being in the base... he shook his head to clear it. No, that wouldn't happen. They had failsafes and security systems. They had anti-intruder technology and weaponry. Their internal systems worked on their own frequency, not linked in with any external system. Even if they were discovered, getting inside the base would be a technological miracle, hopefully well beyond any of Dread's resources. It couldn't happen, right? He hoped it couldn't happen. The idea of Dread or his soldiers getting hold of their base...

But what would it be like to feel safe, even for a short time? To relax, to let his guard down, to simply_ be_ and not have to be Captain Power...

It was something to dream about, but to know Eden II existed? No doubts? No wondering at the mythical nature of it? That was a complete change in thinking.

They might be able to go there someday, but would they really walk on green grass? Drink fresh water? See stars? Or was the legend more practical like he and Jennifer had once speculated? Green fields were actually hydroponics or greenhouses, water filtration plants filled up fabricated lakes, artificial lighting that mimicked real lighting, but that orange singularly denied that being the fact. _That _orange had grown in real soil under real sunshine. It had flourished in fresh air. It had grown on a tree and had been handpicked by someone in Eden II. A real tree.

When he was a boy, there was this huge oak tree in their back yard. He and his dad had built a tree house. Jon himself had designed it as a wraparound type structure. They literally built a floor that wrapped around the tree trunk so it was basically formed like a doughnut. Walls, a roof, two rope ladders that climbed up both sides of the tree for a dual entrance, it had been a rather impressive endeavor. It was so sturdy and well built, Jon slept up there from time to time. When his friends came over for a party, that's where they would be - no parents allowed, of course.

His mother had requested a type of 'dumbwaiter' to be built so she could send up food and drinks to the partygoers without climbing up either ladder. She had once said that they were well-made ladders, but she wasn't going to try to balance a basket of food in one hand and hold on to the ladder with the other, and she wouldn't trust a hook on a rope to lift a basket either. Voila. A type of rope lift that was operated on a counterbalance was added to the structure.

He had a lot of fond memories of that tree house. He and Mitch would have pretend wars in it where they were the soldiers holding the fort, literally. Sometimes, they'd play that they were in the crow's nest of a ship, on the lookout for enemies. It was a fun place to play when they were kids. Out in the Wastelands, trees didn't grow like that anymore. Maybe they had big oaks in Eden II? Maybe they could be transplanted? Maybe he could help his kids build a tree house someday - if he ever had children.

Eden II could be a new beginning for everyone if Dread could be defeated - no, _when_ Dread was defeated. He wouldn't give in to any negative thoughts. Dread could be defeated, he would be, then they could rebuild everything. They could rebuild the world, and they could rebuild their lives.

And the very fact that a place like Eden II existed was proof that everything really could be good again. For all of them. Perhaps in ways Jon was only recently thinking about.

As he walked down the corridor with an armload of powersuits, he considered another complete change in thinking going on in his mind. Jennifer outranked him! He'd never once considered the hierarchy of the Dread Youth in comparison to the regular army or any other military branch. He'd just assumed that a youth leader was one level of authority up from cadets and biomechs. Maybe he should have looked closer.

Then again, on their team, rank didn't follow the same rigid structure as it did in true military units. After all, he was a captain and Hawk was a major. Hawk outranked him, but Jon led the team. That raised a few eyebrows from people occasionally, especially from former rank-and-file military, but no one on the team gave it a second thought.

Although some of the looks Hawk had given Jon when he found out Jennifer outranked him meant that he might be planning something new. He and Jennifer had already picked up on the fact the others were sort of nudging them together, but after everything that had been going on between them, they really didn't need outside nudging, not even from the team. They were nudging themselves closer to each other all by themselves, thank you very much.

Still, a colonel? It was an interesting facet in their growing relationship.

As he continued down the corridor, he realized he had everyone's suit but Jennifer's. He made a turn in the corridor toward her quarters. Just as he got in visual range, he saw the door was ajar. There was movement inside, but he didn't stop until he realized the movement was an arm. Jennifer's bare arm. There was a massive bruise on it. It was hand-shaped... biomech fingers had clenched her arm and dragged her behind that wall when they were in Darktown. He could make out each distinct digit on her skin. He had no idea she'd been grabbed that hard! That kind of strength could have broken bone. If she was hurt and ignoring the wound... he raised his fist to knock on her door... then he realized she was changing out of her suit and quickly stood back. That was not the time or place to ask those kinds of questions. He averted his eyes and moved on. It wouldn't be right or polite to stay there and watch, but the memory of that bruise didn't go away. She had to be hurting, but she hadn't said anything.

Wait - that bruise... the suit should have protected her from a bruise that bad. Perhaps the acid had degraded her suit to that extent? He'd have to check. He didn't want her getting hurt because her suit was damaged.

He reached the lab and dropped the suits on the workbench. He did a quick check of the suits' external wiring. "Hawk's is okay, just superficial scarring. Scout's got some frayed lines, still working but won't for long. Tank's ... mostly intact, just a little work needs to be done on it. Mine, definitely need to patch a few wires -"

"Here's mine," Jennifer's voice sounded behind him. Jon turned as Jennifer walked into the workroom with her suit in her arms. He could spot obvious damage on the suit's sleeve where the material seemed pulled. Maybe the fog and the biomech's grip had worn down that area? Then, he saw the bruise on her arm halfway hidden by a rolled up sleeve. More than that, there was a large, darkening bruise on her neck.

_The biomech had grabbed her by the neck?_ Jon hadn't realized that.

He took her suit and placed it on the pile, then reached out and carefully took hold of her arm. Pulling her toward him, he eased her sleeve up to examine that bruise, then gently touched the side of her neck. "Those are bad bruises," he whispered.

She moved away from him slightly, but it was the look on her face that surprised him. It was one he hadn't seen in a long time. It seemed as if the bruise was something she hadn't cared about and didn't think anyone else would either. Then, when Jon pointed it out, it reminded her of another difference that set her apart. _That_ was a look he hoped he'd never see again. It usually led to an explanation of something else that Dread had done to the Dread Youth, and it was always something that Jon didn't like. "It's part of the job. And they're not the first ones like this I've had."

That sounded rather ominous. "What do you mean?"

Jennifer shrugged. "That biomech grabbed me, and I had to fight him off. It wasn't anything new. I used to do that all the time."

"You did?"

"That was part of the Youth training."

He was right. It was another explanation of something Dread did that made him angry, but this was something unexpected. He kept his anger in check. This was one of those times to listen, not react. He leaned against the worktable and gave her a gentle pull so she could lean against the worktable next to him. "What happened?"

She didn't answer at first. She sat there for a moment, quiet and introspective. Then she took his hand. She placed her palm against his, measuring her fingers to his. Her hand seemed small compared to his, but the strength in those hands always surprised him. Whether it was in a fight or grappling with the controls of the jumpship to keep her airborne, her hands were strong and steady. At that moment, she was trying to avoid the question by diverting her thoughts. He would wait as long as he needed to. He would always listen. Even if he couldn't understand, he'd listen.

Jon thought she wouldn't answer, then she wove her fingers with his and said, "Dread trained us to always be observant, to always expect an enemy to be anywhere. There was a certain design of biomech that he created as training robots. They would hide behind doors and walls and grab us as we'd go to our classes or to our duty stations. Sometimes, they'd be hiding in our quarters and attack us when we came back. Our objective was to get free, fight back and damage the biomech in any way possible. The older and stronger we became, the more strength and tricks Dread had to design into these biomechs. Eventually, we were using hand-to-hand combat against them."

"Hand-to-hand against a biomech? When you were a kid? That's why you're so good at close quarters combat," he observed.

"It was either get good in a fight or get more bruises," she said matter-of-factly. The look in her eyes at that moment was another that Jon hadn't seen in a long time. It was the '_this was my life, this was all I knew, and I thought it was normal'_ look. In other words, she was telling him another mystery about her past, one that she was only now feeling comfortable enough and safe enough to describe. "Anyway, Dread eventually started building the training mechs from heavier materials. Made them weigh twice as much. He said we were his soldiers, made to fight all enemies of the Machine. We were taught new fighting techniques, but they didn't help us deal with the heavier clickers. We could fight them hand-to-hand, and I couldn't tell you how. We just did. Other biomechs couldn't stand against them even when fighting two to one, so I don't know how we could."

With his free hand, Jon moved Jennifer's hair away from the bruise on her neck. Had it gotten worse in the few minutes she'd been in there? He gently traced the perimeter of it with his thumb and she flinched slightly. The bruise would heal, but right now, the area was hurting, and she was treating it like nothing was out of the ordinary. This was something _normal_ from her childhood? Just when he thought he knew everything bad Dread had done to the Dread Youth... "This happened all the time?"

"When I was younger. It happened a lot more for a few years before I made youth leader. I got tired of being grabbed by a robot so I started destroying them instead of escaping and damaging them."

Destroying a _machine_? A cadet? And Dread let them? "You destroyed them?"

"It was easier than you'd think," she pointed out. "You know how certain locations on a biomech are weaker than others? Like at the joints and at the data core site and the exact center of the front plate?"

Jon nodded.

"If you hit three weaker spots on a training mech in quick succession, it overloads its sensors and sends a shock through its system. It puts it in a two second reboot mode, and when it does, you rip out the power core or rip off its head." Jon was about to say something supportive when he realized she was smirking at him. She was actually smirking at him! As if what she had just said was the most obvious thing in the world!

Jon shook his head and smirked back. The way she explained it made it all seem so simple. "Dread taught you this?"

She shook her head. "Absolutely not. The idea that we could consider ourselves superior to a machine in a fight? That wouldn't work since he kept repeating that machines were superior to humans in all ways. No, I figured it out for myself after the first attack. I was one big bruise after that one. I couldn't walk without limping, I think it bruised a rib, definitely pulled a few muscles, and I was determined to not let that happen again."

Of that, he had no doubt. She was too good at tactical options. "But back then, you believed the litanies, didn't you?"

"Every word," she agreed readily.

His hand moved to the bruise on her arm. If she was thinking these bruises were just 'part of the job,' how bad were the bruises she got fighting training mechs? "Can you teach us how to fight them like that?"

She grinned up at him. "Our suits limit our maneuverability, but the big problem is that it only works on the training mechs. I exploited a weakness that Dread didn't know about. Once I made youth leader, the only time I had to deal with training mechs was in formal sparring matches. There were no more hiding attacks."

So specific training ended after a promotion? That was intriguing, but it was also a discussion for another time. "So... destroying Dread's robots... did you get in trouble?"

There was a slight smile playing at her lips. "No. When that happened, I honestly can't tell you what happened. That training mech attacked me, and I didn't _think_. I _reacted_. I took him down, I ripped his head off, and I was so proud of myself. I'd won that battle just like Dread was wanting us to do. I don't think he was expecting any of us to go to that extreme. The idea that I had destroyed _a machine_ didn't even cross my mind until another cadet walked by and just stared at us. He was absolutely horrified at seeing a dead biomech at my feet, and he ran off to get the overunit. That was when I realized what I'd done and that I was probably going to be in trouble. When the overunit arrived, not to mention a lot more cadets, that overunit didn't know what to say. Finally, she looked at me, said 'Well done, Cadet Chase,' and left. Not long after that, I was told I was being promoted to youth leader, the youngest ever in the Dread Youth. And, I received special recognition for exceeding expectations. At the youth leader promotion ceremony, come to think of it."

Jon pulled her a little closer and the light shone more directly on the bruise on her arm. That one looked worse than the one on her neck. She wasn't trying to hide them, he realized. She just didn't think they were a big deal - not like he did.

Leaning against the bench, situated so closely side by side, he was very aware of her. He was also aware that he was enjoying being that close to her, and given how she was scooting closer to him, she was happy with the proximity as well. "It took a lot of strength to yank yourself away from a biomech though. Their grips are pretty tight."

"Hawk once said I wasn't a lightweight. I'm not sure what he meant."

Jon smiled. "It's a boxing term. In this case, I think he means you're a lot stronger than you look."

She shrugged, and he noticed how she was holding her arm close to her as if her shoulder was hurting her. He carefully placed his hand on her shoulder and felt the muscles twitching. "Jennifer?"

"That grabby robot gave me a yank when he pulled me in that door. That's all. It's nothing serious."

"Jennifer -"

She looked up at him and shook her head. "It's all right. Don't worry."

"I worry about you," he told her. "Did Hawk take a look at it?"

She shook her head. "Mentor scanned me when we got back. It's not broken or dislocated. It's just sore."

"You didn't say anything," he pointed out. He didn't want her going back to previous behavior of ignoring injuries. He gently kneaded his fingers into her shoulder, feeling the tightness ease up slightly.

"It's better now. I think I just need to let it rest for a while."

Rest would be a good thing, but she wouldn't rest while everyone else was working. It wasn't in her nature, but if everyone was resting... "You know, it won't take long to repair the suits if I had a little help. Everything's quiet at the moment... want to take an afternoon off?"

She didn't have to consider it. "I like that idea," she said enthusiastically.

"I'll tell the others," Jon said with a smile. "It's been a while since any of us have had any real downtime. I think we deserve it."

~0~0~0~0~

There was a new type of music playing through the control room speakers. Good percussion, some kind of wind instruments, strings...

"Afternoon off," Scout almost sang. "I don't know what to do with myself."

"What is that music," Tank finally asked.

Scout turned the volume down slightly. "I was doing some more research about helping plant growth so our little orange seeds will grow and found this file in the music library."

"Plant growth again?" Tank asked him.

"Yeah. It's an interesting concept. I was looking for music with good harmonies or good baselines, and I stumbled on this one. It was a short-lived style that lasted about a decade in the late 21st century. There was a resurgence of acoustic versions of the early to mid-21st century techno and dance songs. I'm playing it to see if I like it."

Hawk sat down at the control console and listened. "There are way too many types of music to keep up with. Dance songs, I get. Feel good songs, romantic songs, sing-along songs. All good. These other styles? They change all the time. What was techno?"

"Some kind of electronic dance music," Scout explained. "The mid-century techno style was actually a remade version of the late 20th and early 21st century rock ballads. The original techno started in the late 20th century. Get this - that techno started in Detroit."

"Where Dread is now," Tank observed. "I wonder what he'd think about that."

"I don't know what Dread would think, but could we change stations here? Please?" Hawk asked. "Something a little mellower?"

Scout laughed as he stopped that music and began playing a ballad. He switched the music from the control room speakers to play all over the base. "Gotta love music," he stated. "Notice how it makes everybody feel better? Takes away the crankiness?" There was a pause before he asked, "Maybe that's Dread's problem. Maybe he doesn't like music."

"He used to," Hawk explained. "I had to go to some of those fundraising dinners that Taggart had, usually running security for Stuart, and Taggart always had classical music playing. He wanted everyone to think he was into the arts. To tell the truth, I don't think he knew the difference between the Beach Boys and Beethoven until he started getting power hungry. That's when his tastes started changing. Stuart told me that every time they worked in the lab, Taggart played anything but classical because he hated a quiet lab. He wanted noise. When he got obsessed with Overmind, that all changed."

Scout sighed. "Yeah. Guess Overmind didn't care too much for music. Too bad. There's a lot out there to like."

There was a quiet moment between them, and then Hawk noticed Tank grin as he realized something. "Hawk, have you noticed that Scout's music appreciation seems to be growing lately?" Tank quietly observed.

Hawk had to agree. "I have, as a matter of fact. And Scout is someone who already has a keen interest in music and wouldn't actually need to research certain genres... he'd already know about them."

"Guys -" Scout began to say.

Tank laughed. "We're getting sloppy, Hawk. The clues were right in front of us, and we haven't paid them any attention."

"Look, you two -" Scout tried to interrupt.

"You're right, Tank. Maybe we're getting old?"

"Guys, I'm just helping out -" Scout tried to say.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Tank mused out loud. "Let's look at the facts. One - you're looking around for all kinds of music in the databases to present to Chelsea," he pointed out. "Two - you're looking for music that is specifically suggested as an aid to plant growth which Chelsea is very interested in. Three - Chelsea works in the hydroponics lab at the Passages and you go there every time we visit. Sounds somewhat simple when you put all the facts together because I don't think you've grown bored with the songs you usually play around here.'

Scout? Bored with music? Hawk suppressed a laugh while Scout sat there for a moment, unable to come up with an answer.

Then Hawk lost control and laughed out loud. The idea of a speechless Scout could only mean one thing. "Oh, oh!" Hawk laughed. "So that's what it is! Scout, you and Chelsea have gotten serious. I knew it would happen some day!"

Scout put up his hand and shook his head. "Hey, I like Chelsea. I really like Chelsea. We're -"

"More than friends?" Hawk finished for him. "Come to think of it, we've been getting some really good vegetables when we trade at the Passages lately. I don't think she'd go to all that trouble if she didn't like you too. And you go straight to hydroponics every single time we go there, and we don't see you again until it's time to leave. I'm guessing you're not just scrounging for extra parts and supplies while we're there, huh?"

Scout cleared his throat. "Hawk -"

"What about Patricia? I thought you two were sort of friendly."

"Whoa, hold it, stop," Scout said, clearly uncomfortable. Perhaps more uncomfortable than anyone could ever remember. "Look, me and Patricia? We're friends. It's just me and Chelsea are... better friends."

Hawk slapped his leg in delight. "Oh, I knew it. I knew it had to happen someday," Hawk repeated. The smile turned into a satisfied grin. "Trying to make a good impression, not caring how it makes you look... knew it was gonna happen. Just like me and Joanna. Just like Jon and Jennifer -"

"Stop," Scout said, his voice a little nervous. "Look, we're supposed to be helping the captain and Jennifer get together. Everything's fine between me and Chelsea. And let me be the first to say that I don't need any help in that area. Never have." He took a deep breath and changed the subject. "And what about the fact Jennifer outranks us in the Dread Youth? Who knew that kind of ranking system was in the Dread Youth? Did the captain know?"

"Not in the least," Hawk admitted quickly. "I think he found it interesting. Did you see that look that went between them after that conversation?"

"They've got a secret," Tank concluded. "I've thought they've had several, but something about that conversation touched on one in particular."

"Lots of secrets," Hawk agreed. "There's no telling what they're talking about during those late night chess games these days. And speaking of talks..." he pressed a button and Mentor appeared above them.

"Yes, Major, what can I do for you?"

Hawk cleared his throat. "Mentor, you and Jennifer talk a lot when she has the night shift. Right?"

"Yes, we do."

"I don't want to be asking about anything that's private, but did she ever explain the military structure of the Dread Youth and how the hierarchy works?"

Mentor thought for a moment. "We've had some discussion about various military structures over the centuries, the Dread Youth included."

"Did she ever mention that a youth leader could hold the equivalent authority of a captain, a colonel or even a general in our army?"

"Yes, she has," Mentor said. Was that a smug smile on his face?

Scout whirled around in his seat. "Wait a minute. You knew she outranked us?"

"I did."

Tank joined in. "And you didn't tell us?"

"It seemed somewhat irrelevant by the time we discussed it," Mentor pointed out. "After all, none of you were in the Dread Youth, therefore her authority in that military structure would have no effect on her position with this team. Here, she is a corporal and a pilot and is content to be so."

"Well, when did you find all this out?" Hawk asked him.

"A year ago," Mentor answered quickly.

The three men frowned. Jennifer had been with them for some years, and this information only came to light a year ago?"

"Uh, Mentor," Scout looked like he was trying to find the exact right words to ask the question. "A year ago? Wouldn't she have told you a lot sooner than that?"

"Actually, I asked her about the Dread Youth," the hologram explained. "When the captain gave Corporal Chase access to my databanks after she first arrived here, she asked many questions over a wide variety of subjects in a very small amount of time."

"She jumped around in her conversations, huh?" Scout asked.

"She did. Her curiosity about everything produced many questions over many subjects. After some time had passed, and we developed a friendship, I asked her if I could ask questions about her past. She agreed, and we began discussing some parts of her life in the Dread Youth. Many were areas she was uncomfortable discussing, so we would talk about something else. I believe I learned as much from her as she did from me."

Hawk thought about that. "Was this to be kept secret?"

"No," Mentor answered. "The information is in the database. The Resistance leaders once believed that the more information the Resistance had about the Dread Youth, the easier it would be to create tactical plans to fight them. Before Corporal Chase joined us, I searched as many databases as I could for information, but very little was available outside of the Volcania network. Once she was here, we would discuss a particular aspect of the information, and she would correct it or add to it. Some of the data loaded into the databases prior to that was completely incorrect. The captain has sent this information to other resistance forces."

"But Jennifer doesn't talk about it much, does she?" Hawk asked.

"No, she doesn't."

That made sense. Jennifer had been opening up more lately about her past, but it had been a slow path to take. It was no surprise that she was guarded with certain information even around Mentor. Sometimes, the past was just too hurtful to discuss. She would answer direct questions; she always had, but to just talk conversationally about some of what she experienced as a child and young adult? It had taken some time for her to get to that stage.

Scout quickly found the file in Mentor's database and read through some of the information. "It's nowhere near complete," he muttered. "It's not much more than we already know except the Dread Youth military structure is pretty complex. It's not simple, that's for certain. It's like Jennifer said, authority and rank depends on where they're assigned."

Tank walked over to the monitor and peered over Scout's shoulder. "We've only dealt with overunits and youth leaders. An occasional cadet. They all seemed the same."

"Maybe the one's we've met up with are a lot alike?" Hawk suggested. "We've mostly fought cadets and squad leaders and the occasional overunit. Jennifer mentioned something about commanders and not knowing what they were up to, but I can't recall ever dealing with one before."

Scout leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving the screen. "There's no telling what else is out there," he murmured. "Dread must have compartmentalized the Dread Youth. One group wouldn't know what the other group was doing."

"Making it easier to keep secrets," Tank pointed out. "Jennifer's story about that associate of hers, Colville, she said no one would have believed her if she told what happened. Maybe compartmentalization is another reason the problems with the transference program isn't known. If the Dread Youth knew that a person didn't really transfer into a metal body, would they still be willing to stand in line for one?"

"All this info..." Scout shook his head. "None of the Dread Youth would believe us if we told them about any of it."

"Of course not," Hawk agreed. "And Jennifer's tried time and again, but she's considered a traitor. They won't listen to her either."

"Hmmm," Tank pondered. "I wonder if they would have if they knew she had been transferred to Aerial Recon. If they only see her as another youth leader -"

"Who went rogue instead of one of the leaders in their own ranks," Scout finished for him. "It might give what she says to some of the soldiers she's come across more weight?"

"Something to think about," Hawk said, "but not our call." Then, Hawk began smiling, and he couldn't wipe the grin off his face.

Scout glanced up at him. "What?"

"What, what?" Hawk asked.

"Whatever it is that's got you so happy, you want to share?"

"Jennifer wasn't an ordinary youth leader. We already knew that, but know we know she outranked all of us," Hawk quipped. "It just got me thinking about some things."

"Like what?"

"Some of the things she's done over the years, how she sneaked into Dread facilities, how she knew how to bypass security systems - all of it. There's a lot more to her than we ever knew."

"And?" Tank prompted him.

"Jon didn't know anything about her being the superior officer, and now I'm wondering what else Jon and Jennifer will be talking about during those late night chess games."

~0~0~0~0~

Ballads? Scout was playing ballads through the speaker system?

What prompted that choice? Or were the others up to something again, Jon wondered. He placed the last repaired powersuit on the table and pointed up toward the speakers. "I think Scout's up to something," Jon said.

Jennifer glanced up and listened to the music. "What?"

"He might be trying to earn points with Chelsea with more music experiments or they're changing tactics." Or maybe those three had decided getting Jon and Jennifer on KP wasn't working the way they wanted, so they were going down more obvious routes?

"He likes her," Jennifer said. "Have you noticed he's more than eager to go to the Passages lately? No matter the reason? He always goes to the hydroponics lab and stays."

"They're that serious?" Jon knew there was a relationship between them but he didn't know it had grown that close.

Jennifer nodded. "That's why we don't see Scout for long periods of time when we go to the Passages. I've heard about some dinners and dances and his helping out in the hydroponics lab in all sorts of ways. Scuttlebutt is saying that Scout may go there and stay one day if he gets tired of the fighting."

"So that's where he's disappearing to," Jon pondered that idea. Last time they were at the Passages, they'd been there for two days and he barely saw Scout the entire time. He hadn't really given it a thought at the time, but Scout and Chelsea... that explained a lot. Then, he frowned. He hadn't thought about losing any of his team like that since Hawk and Vi met months earlier. Vi had invited Hawk to go with them to Eden II. Hawk had turned down the offer, but now that they knew that Eden II was real, was he regretting that decision? He still had feelings for Vi. He might want to retire to Eden II at some point. Scout might want to stay with Chelsea some day. Tank? Jon didn't know about.

He had no intentions of leaving the team.

But Jennifer? There was only one time that he'd ever been truly concerned about her leaving the team. Not long after Jennifer had joined the team, the UTO had requested pilots from the resistance teams for a single transport job. She and Hawk had volunteered, and when they returned, Jennifer was wearing a well-fitting UTO uniform. It had been a thank-you gift from the UTO command for her help. Up until then, she had been wearing the smallest hand-me-downs they could find for her. Jon didn't think much of it at the time, thinking it was only a gift, until the UTO began to request Jennifer's help more and more. She eagerly accepted each request. After a few months, she came back to the base with a UTO patch on her sleeve. Only pilots formerly recognized as UTO pilots were allowed to wear them. For a very scary moment, Jon was worried that Jennifer was going to leave the team and join the UTO, but she always came back.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said.

He tapped the patch on her sleeve. "Did you ever think about leaving here and joining the UTO?"

Jennifer smiled. He reached out and took her hand. "Jennifer?"

She shook her head. "No. It's just when I help them out, I get to do something I love to do."

Jon hadn't been expecting that answer. Then again, he wasn't sure what she was going to say. "What's that?"

"Fly a ship," she answered, her tone sounding as if it were the most obvious answer.

"But you fly the jumpship all the time."

That made her laugh. "I know, and I love flying my jumpship, but sometimes, it's nice to be able to sit in a pilot's seat and just _fly_ a ship. A lot of times when I'm in the jumpship, I'm having to rush to some location under attack, fight Soaron, rush one of us to a medical center somewhere... but when I fly with the UTO, I usually _only_ fly a ship. I get to sit in a cockpit of a transonic fighter jet and go on scouting missions for the transports or I get to fly one of the carriers that's slow and hard to maneuver and falling apart but takes every bit of skill I have to keep it in the air. It's like when you get on a skybike and ride for the fun of it." She had a faraway look in her eyes, the same one someone gets when talking about something they love. Her eyes were absolutely shining.

"That's what the UTO is for you," he nodded. That, he understood all too well. To do something you love just for the love of doing it? That was a rare moment for anyone. No wonder she loved working with the UTO. "So does that mean I don't have to worry about you running off to the UTO and leaving us pilotless?" he joked.

"What?" she pretended to be shocked. "And leave my jumpship with all of you? She'd hate me for it."

"Well, I know one thing," he said as he stood up, moved in front of her, placed his hands on either side of her and leaned over slightly. He glanced back toward the door and saw no one coming. He wanted to spend some time alone with her, and he wanted their conversation to remain private. "I'm really glad you decided to stay here with us," he told her.

"You need someone here who's able to beat you at chess," she joked.

"I can think of other things," Jon smiled, then heard the song change. It was a slow dance ballad. Maybe it was just the next song in the set or maybe Scout and the others were up to something, but it gave him an idea. "Since we're on downtime for the rest of the afternoon, maybe we can find some pleasant ways to pass the time."

In an absolutely unexpected and pleasant move, she boldly reached up and adjusted his collar. "What do you have in mind?" she asked.

He glanced back into the corridor again and saw they were very much alone. He leaned back and held out his hand to her. "Well, we're alone down here, nice music playing... " He took two steps back, extended his hand, bowed slightly and asked, "May I have the honor of this dance?"

Jennifer seemed to consider his offer for just a moment, then said, "Yes, you may." She took his hand and he pulled her into his arms. They swayed to the music, not needing to talk at that moment. The lab was not large, but there was just enough room for the two of them to slow dance. It wasn't the first time they'd danced together. There had been parties they'd attended at the Passages where dancing was expected, an occasional celebration at a settlement, but it was the first time dancing had been so spontaneous and without hesitation on either of their parts.

One song led into another, but the dance remained the same. Jon held her hand in his, his other rested gently on her back. Their bodies touched as they swayed to the music, and he could feel the warmth of her hand resting on his shoulder. Her small hand fit perfectly in his, and her head rested comfortably against his chest. Just a few months earlier, they couldn't have danced together so effortlessly. But then again, months earlier, they wouldn't have been so obviously left alone. Things had changed between them, and things had changed at the base. The team was giving them their time together.

The song changed again to a softer, slower tune. He pulled her a little closer to him and noticed the bruises again. She needed more than a single afternoon off to heal, but she wouldn't take it. She'd refuse any time in the regenerator for something she'd consider so trivial. Still, for her not to mention an injury meant it was bothering her on a deeper level. At that point in their relationship, he thought it better to not mention it, but there was something else he wanted to know. "Can I ask you something?"

He felt her nod her head. "When you said that you didn't like a grabby robot, did you mean that because of what happened during training?"

She raised her head so she could see him better. Her eyes were almost dancing in merriment. "Well, mostly, but if you're going to get grabbed by someone, I can think of better candidates," she teased.

Jon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Really? Is there a short list?"

Jennifer just grinned. "Wouldn't _you_ like to know?"

Jon nodded. He was enjoying the verbal game. "Absolutely."

With a smile, Jennifer said, "Maybe it's an _extremely_ short list."

"Oh? That short? How many does an _extremely_ make?"

Jennifer's smile turned into a rather coy grin. "Present company only."

Yeah, things had definitely changed between them.

"Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Anything."

She stood up on her tiptoes so she was closer to him and whispered, "Why did a youth leader outranking you explain a few things?"

Ah. She'd heard that comment he'd made to Hawk. From the look on her face, he wasn't in any trouble. "Well, it explains why you don't follow orders sometimes."

The grin became a laugh. Jennifer asked, "Did you ever think it depended on the orders?

A logical answer. "No, I never thought that," he admitted. "I thought I always gave good orders."

She nodded. "Sometimes. Most of the time," she acknowledged.

Most of the time? She was teasing him! He loved it when she let her guard down and wasn't so serious. She had a fun sense of humor that few had ever witnessed, and he was seeing that side of her more and more, especially when they were alone. Oh, he could banter back in a joking manner, but with another song starting, he was in the mood for other things. In fact, the very fact they were alone and dancing brought other things to mind. The feel of her in his arms, the sense that they were the only ones in the world, that they were both exactly where they wanted to be, doing what they were doing, and the look in her eyes when she looked at him... yeah, things had definitely changed between them. "I was thinking something else though. Since the others haven't tricked us into doing KP again lately, I think they're trying something else."

"You do?"

Jon nodded. "Maybe sequestering us off into the kitchen wasn't working the way they wanted."

Jennifer considered that fact. "So they're serenading us?" she asked him.

Jon tilted his head slightly and listened to the music. "Good choice of music," he commented.

She looked up at the speakers, then back to him. Her eyes, the eyes that truly did reflect her soul, the eyes that he first saw that day on the mountainside and had looked into every day since, they were telling him how she felt at that moment just as they had then. He wished he could stop time. "You know, it'd be a shame to disappoint them," he hinted, but how did Jennifer feel about it?

"Absolutely," she agreed. Again, they were silent as they danced together. There was a greater degree of comfort between them than there was before. The way Jon's hand held hers, the way she held him... finally, she whispered, "Well, if this is their latest idea, I like it."

Again, Jon glanced out into the corridor and saw they were still alone. He gazed down at her and they stopped dancing. He held her tight, then slowly, he leaned down and gave her a lingering kiss. When he pulled back and looked into her eyes, he could see the light reflecting in them, but there was so much more. He whispered, "I do too."


End file.
